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OLD TALES RETOLD FOR YOUNG READERS 




Uniform with this volume 



CANTERBURY TALES (Selections) 

Retold by Calvin Dill Wilson 
Decorated by Ralph Fletcher Seymour 

$1.00 net 

A. C. McCLURG & CO., Publishers 
CHICAGO 



Copyright 

A. C. McClurg & Co. 

1906 

Published October 6, 1906 






UOKARY of congress] 


Two OOIMC* 


it!CCiVCO 


OCT 20 


1906 


Cooy firn^ F.nxry 
CLASS CL ^«- No. 



5rf)t Uakejsttje ^rtsf 

R. R. DONNELLEY & SONS COMPANY 
CHICAGO 



MnBtrxbth 
Julian BmxB 



FOREWORD 



<4nnHE FAERY QUEEN," by Edmund 
X Spenser, who was born in London in 
1552, is one of the most splendid long poems 
in the English language. It is also a wonder- 
fully interesting story-book, containing all 
sorts of adventures. But not many children 
are likely to read this long poem in its original 
form. I have therefore taken the first story 
and told it in prose, that young readers may 
have the tale in such shape as may please 
them. It would have gratified me to tell the 
whole set of tales in this way, but this course 
would have made a larger book than you 
would care for, perhaps. 

The author of this poem intended that it 
should be understood as an allegory, that is, a 
story with a double meaning. His knights 
and ladies, and their adventures, are meant to 
be images of human life. But as young people 
are usually interested more in a story than in 
its meaning, vje have not given an explanation 
of the allegory, believing that the story in 
itself is sufficiently pleasing, and that readers 
can find out something of the meaning without 
help. 





The book introduces us to the world of the 
fairies. We meet here the great queen Glor- 
iana, who reigned over Fairyland ; we meet 
here St. George and the Dragon. All our 
lives long we shall find in our reading refer- 
ences to the famous scenes and people told of 
in this book. So we hope you may like the 
tale. 

C. D. W, 

Glendale, Ohio, July x, 1906. 



.V, 



V 






CONTENTS 

Chapter 1 3 

Chapter II. 9 

Chapter III 25 

Chapter IV. ..... 39 

Chapter V 53 

Chapter VI 65 

Chapter VII 77 

Chapter VIII 91 

Chapter IX 103 

Chapter X 117 

Chapter XI i33 



CHAPTER I. 

GLORIANA, THE FAIRY QUEEN. — HER 
YEARLY FEAST.— THE AWKWARD YOUTH 
AND HIS REQUEST. — THE LADY WHOSE 
PARENTS WERE SHUT UP BY A DRAGON. 






CHAPTER I 

NCE upon a time the great 
Gloriana ruled as the Fairy 
Queen, and not only were 
the little fairies subject to 
her commands but many 
strong and great knights 
also obeyed her. And these 
were sent forth by her 
endowed with magical powers, so that they 
were able to do what no other knights 
could perform. 

It was the custom of this Queen to hold 
a festival every year for twelve days, dur- 
ing which the. time was spent in feasting 
and merrymaking, and at such seasons all 
the lords and ladies of her kingdom 
gathered together at her court. At a cer- 
tain time the great Gloriana was keeping 
this her yearly feast, when in the beginning 
of the festival there cam.e in a tall but 
clownish young man. He at once presented 
[3] 



THE FAERY QUEEN ; 

himself before the Queen of Fairies, and de- 
sired a favor at her hands. It was the cus- 
tom then that during the feast she could 
not refuse a request that was in itself fair 
and right. 

And what do you think this youth asked 
for himself? Was it money or power? No, 
it was such a thing as in those days brave 
men considered to be the greatest privilege 
they could obtain. He requested that he 
might have the chance to perform a brave 
deed. He wished that he might be chosen 
for the accomplishment of the first advent- 
ure that might happen during that feast. 
This youth seemed to the Queen to be but 
a raw and awkward young man, and by no 
means the most promising of the men pres- 
ent to whom to give such an opportunity, 
but she could not refuse. Therefore she 
granted his desire. 

This youth was much gratified by her 
reply, and then rested himself upon the 
floor, since he on account of his rude 
appearance did not seem to be suited for 
any better place. 

Soon afterward, there entered a fair 

Lady, dressed in black garments, riding 

upon a white ass. Behind her came a 

Dwarf leading a warlike steed, that bore 

[4] 




THE FAERY QUEEN 
the arms of a knight, and his spear was in 
the Dwarf's hands. This Lady, falling be- 
fore the Queen of Fairies, complained that 
her father and mother, who were an ancient 
king and queen, had been shut up for many 
years in their brazen castle, by a huge 
Dragon that lay before their gates and 
would allow no one to enter in nor to come 
out of that palace. She said that many 
knights had come from various parts of the 
world to slay the Dragon, but they had all 
failed and lost their lives. They had been 
attracted thither by the desire to do a great 
deed, and also by the reward which her fa- 
ther offered, for he had proclaimed through- 
out the world that he would make the man 
who would kill the monster heir to his king- 
dom, and he would give him the hand of his 
daughter, Una, who was this Lady herself. 

She said that since so many men had 
failed in this attempt she had now come to 
the Queen of the Fairies, having learned 
that her knights were much abler to per- 
form wonderful deeds than were any other 
men. She therefore asked Gloriana to 
appoint one of her knights to take upon 
himself the adventure of setting her parents 
free by slaying the Dragon. 

The awkward youth, who had received 
[5] 




THE FAERY QUEEN 
Gloriana's promise that he should have the 
privilege of the first adventure that offered, 
heard this conversation, and at once started 
up, desiring that he might undertake this 
deed. Whereat the Queen wondered much 
and the Lady hesitated, seeing his youth 
and awkwardness; but he earnestly urged 
his request. In the end, the Lady told him 
that unless the armor which her Dwarf had 
borne thither, upon the riderless steed, 
would perfectly fit him, he could not suc- 
ceed in the enterprise. 

When the armor was tried upon the 
youth, it was found to be as if it had been 
made for. him. And when his form was 
covered with that noble mail he seemed to 
be the goodliest man in all that company, 
and as the Lady looked upon him thus 
changed she liked him well, and her heart 
went out to him. Then this youth, whose 
name was George, took the oath of knight- 
hood, and mounting upon that strange 
courser, he went forth with the Lady Una 
upon that adventure. But before he went 
away George promised the Queen that if 
he should succeed in killing the Dragon, he 
would return to her court and enter for six 
years as a knight into her wars with the 
heathens. 

[6] 



i 

I 

I 




CHAPTER II. 

THE REDCROSS KNIGHT AND UNA ON 
THEIR JOURNEY.— THEY ENTER THE WAN- 
DERING WOOD. — ERROR^S DEN. — GEORGE 
SLAYS A DREADFUL BEAST. — THEY LODGE 
AT NIGHT WITH AN OLD W^AN WHO 
PROVES TO BE A MAGICIAN. -^^VhE MAGI- 
CIAN AI^mMAGa DECEIVES THE KNIGHT 
BY A DREAM. — GEORGE BELIEVES UNA TO 
BE A WICKED WOMAN. 






CHAPTER II 

fND now we see this gentle 
Knight George, clad in 
mighty arms and carrying 
a silver shield, riding across 
a plain. On his buckler 
were old dents of hard 
blows, the marks of many 
a bloody fight, though we 
know that this Knight had never carried 
arms before. His armor, however, had been 
worn by other warriors, and it had been 
proved to be the best. His angry steed 
champed its foaming bit, as disdaining to 
yield to the curb. Very fair did this Knight 
seem, and he sat his horse firmly, as one 
suited for knightly jousts and fierce en- 
counters. 

On his breast he wore a bloody cross, as 

a sign of his remembrance of his dying 

Lord, for whose sweet sake he wore that 

glorious badge. A cross was also scored 

[9] ,. 




■I 



THE FAERY QUEEN 

upon his shield, for he had his chief hope in 
the help of Christ; and for this reason he 
came to be called George, the Redcross 
Knight. As he rode his countenance 
seemed too sad, yet it was not so through 
fear, for he dreaded nothing, but was rather 
feared by others. 

During his journey thus far, he had come 
to admire and love greatly the Lady Una, 
and he desired above all things to win 
honor and have her favor. His heart was 
also filled with yearning to prove his power 
in brave battle upon his foe, that horrible 
and stern Dragon that imprisoned the par- 
ents of his Lady. 

The lovely Lady Una rode fairly beside 
him, upon a lowly ass that was whiter than 
snow, and yet not so white as she; but she 
hid her beauty under a veil that was folded 
low, and over all she had thrown a black 
cloak. She looked sad as one that inwardly 
mourned, and she sat heavily upon her slow 
palfrey. She seemed to have in her heart 
some hidden care. And by her side she led 
with a line a milk-white lamb, and she was 
as pure and innocent in her life as that same 
lamb. 

Behind her, far away, lagged her Dwarf, 
who seemed lazy, being always last, and 

[10] 




THE FAERY QUEEN 



being wearied with bearing her bag of 
goods at his back. 

As they rode on, the day was suddenly 
overcast with clouds, and an angry, hideous 
storm of rain was poured down fast upon 
the earth, so that every one was constrained 
to hurry to cover; and this fair couple also 
were fain to shelter themselves. 

Driven to seek some hiding place near at 
hand from the storm, they spied a shady 
grove not far away that promised them 
help to withstand the tempest. There lofty 
trees, clad with leaves, the pride of summer, 
spread so broad that they hid heaven's light 
and could not be pierced by the power of 
any star. Within were paths and wide 
alleys with worn footpaths that led far in- 
ward. These promised a fair haven ; so they 
entered. 

With pleasure they went forward, re- 
joicing to hear the birds' sweet harmony, 
which, there protected from the dread tem- 
pest, seemed in their song to scorn the cruel 
sky. Much they praised the straight high 
trees, the soaring pine, the proud, tall cedar, 
the vine-prop elm, the green poplar, the 
oak that is king of the forests, the aspen 
good for staves, the funeral cypress, the 
laurel, the reward of conquerors and sage 
[II] 





THE FAERY QUEEN 

poets, the weeping fir, the willow worn by 
forlorn lovers, the yew, the birch, the sallow, 
the myrrh, the beech, the ash, the olive, the 
plane tree, the holme and the maple. 

Led with delight, they beguiled their ride 
with listening to the birds and looking upon 
the trees, until the blustering storm was 
blown over. When wishing to return to the 
open again, they could not find the path, but 
wandered back and forth in unknown ways. 
When they thought themselves nearest, 
they were farthest from the right way, so 
^vj that they began to doubt if they had not 
-^ lost their wits. They saw so many paths, 
with so many turnings, that they were in 
doubt which one to take. 

At last they resolved to ride forward 
until they could find some way in or out, 
and they took the path that seemed most 
beaten and most likely to lead out of the 
labyrinth. When they had hunted over all 
this, it at length brought them to a hollow 
cave amid the thickest woods. The stout 
Knight at once dismounted from his brave 
courser, and gave his spear to the Dwarf. 

Then the mild Lady said, ** Beware lest 
you stir up sudden mischief. There may be 
hidden danger, for this place is unknown 
and wild. Often there is fire without smoke, 

[12] 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

and peril without signs of it. Therefore, 
Sir Knight, wait till you have made further 
trial." 

"Ah, Lady," said he, "it would be shame- 
ful to cease to go forward because of hidden 
shadows. Virtue gives herself light to 
wade through darkness." 

"Yes, but," said she, "I know the peril of 
this place better than do you. Though you 
think it is now too late to return back with- 
out disgrace to you as a Knight, yet wis- 
dom warns you, while you are at the en- 
trance to the cave, to stay your steps be- 
fore you are forced to retreat, for this is 
the Wandering Wood, and this is Error's 
Den, a vile monster who is hated by God 
and man. Therefore, I say, beware," 

"Fly, fly," said the timid Dwarf, "this is 
no place for living men." 

But the youthful Knight was so full of 
fire and courage that he could not be 
stopped, but went forth into the dark hole 
and looked in. His glistening armor made 
a little gloomy light, by which he saw 
plainly the ugly monster, that was half like 
a serpent and the other half had a woman's 
shape, and all was most loathsome, filthy, 
and foul. And as she lay upon the ground, 
her huge, long tail spread over all her den, 
[13] 



a 



THE FAERY QUEEN 



yet was wound up in knots and many folds, 
and pointed with a deadly sting. 

The monster started up frightened, and 
rushed forth, hurling her hideous tail about 
her cursed head. Its folds were now 
stretched forth at length without twistings. 
She looked about, and seeing a man armed 
in iron mail sought to turn back again, for 
she hated light as a deadly thing. 

Which when the valiant knight saw, he 
leaped as fiercely as a lion upon his fleeing 
foe, and with his sharp sword he boldly 
kept her from turning back, and forced her 
to stay. Enraged at this, she began to roar 
loudly, and fiercely turning, thrust forward 
her speckled tail, threatening her angry 
sting to dismay him. But he, nothing terri- 
fied, raised up his mighty hand, and the 
stroke of his sword glanced from her head 
to her shoulder. 

Her senses were dazed with that blow, 
yet her rage kindled, and she gathered her- 
self up and all at once raised her beastly 
body high above the ground. Then she 
leaped fierce upon his shield, and suddenly 
wound her huge length around his body, so 
that he tried in vain to stir hand or foot. 
His Lady, sad at seeing his sore plight, 
cried, "Now, now. Sir Knight, show what 
[14] 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

you are. Add faith to your force, and be 
not faint. Strangle her, or she surely will 
strangle you." - 

When he heard this, he was in great per- 
plexity, and was filled with grief and dis- 
dain. Then striving with all his force he 
got one hand free, and with this he gripped 
her throat with such a strength that soon 
he compelled her to loose her wicked bands. 
Then she cast forth from her foul mouth a 
horrible poison, which smelled so vilely 
that it forced him to slacken his hold and to 
turn away from her. The Knight was well 
nigh choked by the deadly smell, so that 
he could not fight for a moment. 

The Knight at last feeling more the 
shame than the peril of his plight, came 
furiously upon his foe, resolved to win sud- 
denly or quickly to lose before he would 
give up the battle. He then struck at her 
with more than human force, so that he 
hewed her hateful head from her body. 
Then a stream of coal-black blood gushed 
from her corpse. 

His Lady seeing from afar all that had 
happened, approached in haste to praise his 
victory, and said, "Fair Knight, born under 
a happy star, who now see your vanquished 
foe lie before you, you are well worthy of 
[15] 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

that armor wherein you have won great 
glory this day and proved your strength on 
a strong enemy in your first adventure. 
Many such adventures I pray for you, and 
ever wish that they may succeed like this 
one." 

Then he mounted upon his steed again 
and sought to go thence with his Lady. He 
kept that path which was most beaten, nor 
would go aside to any byway, and by fol- 
lowing this path to the end it at last 
brought them out of the wood. So forward 
on his way, with God as his friend, he 
passed forth and sought new adventures. 
But he travelled a long way before any- 
thing more happened to him. 

At length they chanced to meet upon the 
way an aged man, who was clad in long 
black clothes, with bare feet, and with 
beard hoary gray. He had his book hang- 
ing by his belt, and seemed sober and sad 
as a sage. His eyes were bent low upon the 
ground, and he seemed to be a simple man, 
without any malice. As he went he prayed 
all the way, and often knocked upon his 
breast as one that repented of his sins. 

He greeted the Knight fairly , bowing 

low, and he as a courteous man returned 

the salute, and afterward asked him if he 

[i6] 



/ 








THE FAERY QUEEN 

knew of any strange adventures that had 
been taking^ place. **Ah, my dear," said he, 
** how should a silly old man, who lives in 
a hidden cell, counting his beads all day for 
his sins, know tidings of wars and worldly 
troubles? It does not fit a holy father to 
meddle with such things. But if you de- 
sire to hear of danger near at home, I can 
tell you tidings of a strange man that 
wastes this country far and near.' 

"Of such/' said the Knight, "I chiefly in- 
quire, and shall reward you well to show 
the place in which that wicked wight 
spends his days. For to all knighthood it is 
a foul disgrace that such a cursed creature 
lives so long." 

**His dwelling," said he, "is far hence, in 
a vast wilderness, where no living man may 
ever pass without great sorrows." 

"Now," said the Lady, "it draws toward 
night, and well I know that you are wearied 
by your great toil. For who is so strong 
but lacking rest he will also lack strength? 
Then with the Sun take your timely rest, 
and with the new day begin at once new 
work. An untroubled night, they say gives 
best counsel." 

"Right well, Sir Knight, you are 
advised," said then that aged man. "Now 
[17] 





THE FAERY QUEEN 

the day is spent. Therefore with me you 
may take up your lodging for this night.'* 

The Knight was well content, so they 
went with that godly father to his home. 
It was a little lowly hermitage, down in a 
dale, close to the side of a forest, far from 
the road where people passed to and fro in 
travel. Near it there was built a holy 
chapel, wherein the hermit was used to say 
his holy prayers, each morning and evening. 
There a crystal stream gently played, which 
welled forth from a sacred fountain. 

When they had arrived, they filled the 
little house, it was so small, nor did they 
look for fine entertainment where it could 
not be given. Rest was their feast, and 
doing as they wished. The noblest mind 
has the best contentment. They passed the 
evening with pleasant discourse; for that 
old man had a store of pleasing words, and 
could file his tongue as smooth as glass. 
He told of Saints and Popes, and strewed 
his prayers through his talk. 

The drooping night crept fast upon them. 
Their eyelids grew heavy, bidding them to 
sleep. The old man then led them to their 
couches, and when he saw them lost in 
sleep he went to his study. There amid 
books of magic and various arts, he sought 
[i8] 





THE FAERY QUEEN 
out mighty charms to trouble sleepy minds. 
By his horrible spells he called up hundreds 
of Sprites, which fluttered about his head 
like little flies waiting to do whatever ser- 
vice he bade them, to assist his friends or 
slay his enemies. Of these he chose out a 
pair, the falsest ones and fittest to forge 
lies that seemed true. To one of these he 
gave a message to bear for him, and the 
other stayed by his side to do other work. 
The one sped through the air, and 
through the ocean, and hastily repaired to 
the house of Morpheus, the god of sleep. 
His dwelling is in the bowels of the earth, 
where the dawning day never peeps. There 
he found the double gates locked fast; the 
one was framed of burnished ivory, and the 
other all covered with silver. Before them 
lay wakeful dogs watching to banish Care, 
which is wont to trouble gentle sleep. The 
Sprite passed quietly by these, and came to 
Morpheus, whom he found drowned in 
drowsiness; for he takes no care for any- 
thing. To lull Morpheus in his soft 
slumber, there is there a trickling stream 
that tumbles down from a high rock. Rain 
always drizzles on the roof, mixed with a 
murmuring wind, much like the sound of 
bees. No other noise, nor the troublous 
[19] 




( 



THE FAERY QUEEN 

cries of people might there be heard. There 
careless Quiet lies wrapped in eternal 
silence, far from foes. 

This Messenger, approaching, spoke to 
him, but his words were wasted ; he slept so 
sound that nothing could awaken him. 
Then he struck him rudely, causing him 
pain, whereat he began to stretch himself. 
He again shook him so hard that he forced 
him to speak, and he mumbled softly as one 
in a dream. The Sprite then began more 
boldly to awaken him, and threatened him 
with the dreadful name of Hecate. At this 
he began to quake, and lifting up his lump- 
ish head half angrily asked him for what he 
came. ^ . ^., 

"I was sent here/' said the Sprite, by 
Archimago, he that can tame stubborn 
Sprites. He bids you to send him a false 
dream that can deceive sleepers.'' 

This command Morpheus obeyed, and 
calling forth at once a Dream out of his 
dark prison, delivered it to him, and then 
again laid down his heavy head, whose 
senses were at once benumbed. 

The Sprite, returning by the ivory door, 
remounted to the air cheerful as a lark, and 
bore the Dream upon his little wmgs m 
haste to his master. 

[20] 




E^ 



i 



THE FAERY QUEEN VS) / 

This old man, who was really the great ^]M 
magician Archimago, meanwhile had made t^U 
a Lady of the other Sprite, and framed her l^^W 
of air, so beautiful and so like Una that ^!y^ 
Archimago himself was almost deceived at W)/\ 
the sight. He clad her all in white and cast 5S:^r 
over her a black garment like that of Una. ]/ ^ 
Then he sent that idle Dream to the Knight ff^^ 
where he slept soundly, void of evil thought, uj^^ 
And when he dreamed awhile he awoke and ^ & 
found this Sprite in his room. And then L^V/- 
that evil Sprite told him that Una, who he ^<j)H 
thought was speaking to him, was a wicked [> ^^ \ 
woman, and unworthy of his devotion and t^-^^h 
his service. fC*^W 

He was much dismayed at this strange w(L 
news, but he could not doubt since it ^"^^ 
seemed to be Una herself who spoke. And KWA7 
when she was gone, he lay a long time t^^/^^^ 
musing and much grieved that this gentle fy^fsip 
dame was an evil person, for whose de- y''^^^^ 
fence he was to shed his blood. At last, ^^ 
dull with weariness from his fight, he fell 
asleep, but troublous dreams still tossed 
his brain. 



\ 




CHAPTER IIL 

THE REDCROSS KNIGHT, BELIEVING UNA 
TO BE WICKED, FORSAKES HER. — UNA 
GOES IN SEARCH OF HER KNIGHT. — ARCHI- 
MAGO DISGUISES HIMSELF AS THE RED- 
CROSS KNIGHT. — THE REAL ST. GEORGE 
FIGHTS WITH THE SARACEN SANSFOY.— 
A FALSE WITCH |)UESSA) DECEIVES ST. 
GEORGE.— THE MAN AND WOMAN WHO 
WERE CHANGED INTO TREES. 





AW 




CHAPTER III 

HEN the cheerful Chanti- 
cleer with his shrill note 
had warned them once that 
the Sun's fiery car was has- 
tily climbing the eastern 
hill, the Knight was awak- 
ened from troubled sleep. 
He had great torment in 
his bed and bitter anguish at the thought 
of what he believed the Lady Una 4iad said 
to him. He could no longer rest; life 
seemed irksome. And when the light 
dawned, up he rose and hastily clad himself. 
Then he ordered the Dwarf to bring his 
steed, and away they both fled. 

When the fair rosy morning had spread 
her robe through the dewy air and the 
high hills were shining with the light, the 
royal virgin, Una, shook off drowsiness, and. 
rising from her bower, looked for her 
Knight, but he had fled far away. Then she 
[25] 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

searched for her Dwarf, but he, too, was 
gone. And then she began to wail and weep 
at her peril. Mounting her palfrey, she 
rode after him, with as much speed as her 
slow beast could make. But it was all in 
vain, for the Knight's light-footed steed 
had borne him so far, spurred by this angry 
and disdainful man, that it was but fruitless 
for her to follow. 

Yet she would never rest her weary 
limbs, but searched every hill and dale, 
wood and plain, grieving in her gentle 
breast that he whom she so loved had left 
her so ungently. 

But the subtle Archimago, when he saw 
his guests thus separated and Una wander- 
ing in forests and woods, praised his own 
fiendish art, that had such power over true 
meaning hearts. Yet he did not rest, but de- 
vised other means to cause Una further 
pain. For he hated her as a hissing snake and 
took most pleasure in her many troubles. 

He then planned how to disguise himself, 
for by his mighty art he could take many 
forms and shapes, sometimes like a fowl, 
sometimes like a fish, now like a fox, now 
like a dragon, so that he would often quake 
with fear of himself. Who can tell the 
power of Magic? 

[26] 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

But it now seemed to him best to put on 
the appearance of that good Knight who 
had been his guest. At once he clad him- 
self with mighty arms, and a silver shield. 
Upon his cowardly breast he had a bloody 
cross. He seemed like a fair knight, and of 
good address. When he sat upon his free 
courser, you would have thought it was 
St. George himself. 

But he whose semblance he bore, the 
true St. George, had wandered far away, 
still flying from his thoughts and fears. At 
last, however, the real St. George chanced 
to meet upon the way a faithl ess Sar acen, 
all armed, upon whose gfeaF" shield was 
written with gay letters, Sansfoy, which 
means, without faith. He was large in 
limbs and joints, and cared not for God nor 
man. This Saracen had as a fair compan- 
ion of his way a goodly Lady, clad in 
scarlet embroidered with gold and pearls. 
On her head she wore a Persian mitre 
decorated with jewels, which her lovers had 
given her. Her palfrey was covered with 
tinsel trappings and her bridle rang with 
golden bells. She entertained this Saracen 
with mirth and dalliance on the way. 

But when she saw St. George advance 
his spear, she left off her mirth and bade 
[27] 







THE FAERY QUEEN 

her knight prepare for battle, as a foe was 
coming. The Saracen, stirred with hope to 
win his Lady's heart, spurred forth fast. 
Down his courser's side the red blood 
trickled and stained the ground as he rode. 
The Knight of the Redcross, when he 
spied him spurring so hotly, couched his 
spear and rode toward him. Soon they both 
met furiously so that their steeds staggered 
and stood amazed. Also the knights them- 
selves were stunned with the strokes of 
their own hands, and recoiled from each 
other. There they stood unmoved as rocks, 
staring fiercely, holding idly their broken 
spears. The Saracen then snatched his 
sword and fiercely flew upon his enemy, 
who warded it well and gave him blow for 
blow. Each envies the other's equal power, 
and they seek to pierce through their iron 
sides. They yield no foot. The flashing 

^'SJ fire flies, as from a forge. Streams of purple 

/-Or blood color the green fields. 

"A curse on that Cross," then cried the 
Saracen, "that keeps your body safe. I 
know you would have been dead long ago, 
had not that Cross been a charm. But yet 
I warn you to hide your head." Thereupon 
he smote upon his crest with such force 
that he hewed a large piece out of his hel- 
[28] 





THE FAERY QUEEN 

met. St. George, wondrously wroth, soon 
revived the sleeping spark of his strength, 
and, aiming at the haughty helmet of the 
Saracen, struck so furiously that his sv^ord 
cut through the steel and clove his head. 
He tumbled down, kissing his mother earth 
with bloody mouth. His spirit strove with 
the frail flesh, and at last flitted away. 

The Lady in scarlet^ when she saw her 
champion fall like the old ruins of a 
broken tower, stayed not to weep for him 
but fled away with all her might. The 
Knight scoured hastily after her, bidding 
the Dwarf bring away the Saracen's shield, 
as a sign of his victory, and soon he over- 
took her, bidding her to stop, as there was 
no present cause for fear. 

She turned back with sad face, crying, 
"Mercy, mercy, Sir, show to a silly dame 
subject to hard mischance and to your 
mighty will." 

Her humble manner, her rich garments, 
and glorious appearance, much moved his 
stout, heroic soul, and he said, "Dear Dame, 
your sudden overthrow stirs my pity. But 
now put fear aside and tell who you are, 
and who he was that took your part.'' 

Then she melted in tears and began to 
lament thus : "The wretched woman, whom 

[29] 



/\ 



THE FAERY QUEEN 



an unhappy hour has made your slave, be- 
fore false fortune betrayed me, was the only 
daughter of an Emperor who had the wide 
West under his rule and had his throne on 
the Tiber. He in my fresh youth betrothed 
me to the only heir of a most mighty king, 
rich and wise. There was never a Prince 
so faithful and so fair or so meek; but be- 
fore the day of my marriage shone, my 
dearest lord fell into the hands of his ac- 
cursed foes, and was cruelly slain. His 
blessed body was afterward hidden from 
me, and in my great sorrow I went forth to 
find his woeful corpse. Many years I 
strayed throughout the world, languishing 
with a wounded mind. 

"At last it chanced that this proud Sara- 
cen met me wandering, and he led me away 
by force, but he could never win my love. 
Now he lies dead with foul dishonor. In 
this sad plight, friendless and unfortunate, 
now miserable I, Fidessa, dwell craving of 
you in pity to do me no ill." 

St. George was much stirred by this tale, 
keeping his eyes busy viewing her face, and 
said, "Fair lady, a heart of flint would pity 
your undeserved woes and sorrows. Hence- 
forth you may rest in the safe assurance 
that you have found a new friend to aid 
[30] 



^1f^^^ 



l>^ 





THE FAERY QUEEN 

you, and lost an old foe that molested 

That seemingly simple maid now let her K^y^j; 
eyes fall modestly to the earth, and, accept- /cfD\V 
ing his friendship, they rode forth. A long 
time they thus travelled together, until, 
weary of their journey, they came at last 
to a place where two goodly trees grew, 
that spread their arms abroad, covered with 
moss; their green leaves trembling with 
every breeze made a calm shadow far 
around. This good Knight, as soon as he 
spied them, rode hastily thither for the cool 
shade, for the Sun that day hurled his 
scorching beams so cruelly hot that no 
living creature could abide them. There 
they alighted to hide themselves from the 
fierce heat and to rest their weary limbs. 

There as they sit, he in his deceived fancy 
takes her to be the fairest woman that ever 
lived. And to express this thought he uses 
his gentle wit. And, thinking to form a 
garland for her dainty forehead, from the 
green branches he plucked a bough. But 
out of the broken branch there came small 
drops of blood that trickled down, and 
therewith a piteous voice was heard, crying, 
"Oh, spare with guilty hands to tear my 
tender sides imprisoned in this rough bark, 
[31] 



THE FAERY QUEEN 

But fly, oh, fly far hence lest that happen 
to you that did to me and to this wretched 
lady, my dear love." Astonished, the 
Knight stood, and could not move a limb 
for horror. At last his manhood awoke, 
and doubting his own senses he said, 
*'What voice of a lost spirit, or wicked 
sprite wandering in the empty air, sends to 
my doubting ears these cries and bids 
me spare guiltless blood?'' 

Then the tree groaned deeply and said, 
"Not these, but once a man, Fradubio, now 
a tree. Wretched man, wretched tree, 
J^ whose weak nature a cruel witch has thus 
changed, and placed in the open fields, 
where the winter winds blow bitter and 
bleak, and the scorching sun dries my veins. 
For though I seem to be a tree, yet cold 
and heat pain me." ^^ 

''Say on, Fradubio, then, man or tree, 
said the Knight, "by whose mischievous 
arts you are misshaped thus* He often 
finds medicine who tells his grief." 

"The author, then," said he, "of all my 
woe is one Duessa, a false sorceress who 
has brought many knights to misery. In 
the prime of my years when hot courage 
was first kindled in my breast by the fire 
of love and the joy of chivalry, it was my 
[32] 





1 

\ 

1 

J ■ 

I 

I 



THE FAERY QUEEN 

lot to love this gentle lady whom you see 
beside me as a tree. Once, accompanied by 
her, I chanced to be met by a knight who 
had a like fair Lady by his side, or she was 
like a fair Lady, but it was the foul Duessa. 
This knight took in hand to claim that her 
beauty far exceeded that of all other dames. 
I in defence of mine likewise stood, mine 
that did then shine as the morning star. So 
we both arranged for fierce battle, and it 
was his harder fortune to fall under my 
spear. His Lady, as my prize of war, 
yielded herself to obey my commands. 
These ladies were both so fair that one day 
I wisheid to compare and find which ex- 
ceeded in glorious beauty, and a garland of 
roses was to be the prize. At the contest 
both seemed to win, so hard was it to de- 
cide. Fraelissa was as fair as fair could 
be, and the false Duessa seemed likewise 
as fair.. The wicked witch, seeing how 
doubtful was the balance, cast about to win 
by guile what she could not get by right, 
and by her magic she raised a foggy mist 
that overcast the day, and a dull blast that 
breathed on my Lady's face, dimming her 
beauty and making her seem ugly. Then 
was Duessa fair alone. Then she cried out, 
Tie, deformed wight, whose borrowed 
[33] 



/. 



w 



THE FAERY QUEEN 

beauty now plainly shows that before you 
bewitched men's eyes. Leave her or let her 
be slain/ 

"Seeing my Lady's ugly face, I was filled 
with scorn and believed she was a witch as 
Duessa had said. I would have killed her, 
but the false witch changed her into a tree. 
Thenceforth I took Duessa for my dame, 
and in this witch found joy for a long time, 
never knowing what she was. But on a 
day, that day when witches do penance for 
their crimes, I chanced to see her in her 
own form, a filthy, foul old woman. She 
was more hideous and foul than man would 
believe woman's shape could be. Thence- 
forth I refrained from her beastly company, 
as soon as there was safe opportunity. For 
I knew there was great danger before 
my eyes if she knew I strayed from her. 

"This hag perceived my thoughts by my 
changed face, and when I was drowned in 
sleep she smeared my body with herbs and 
ointments that took away my senses. Then 
she brought me to this desert place and put 
me by my wretched Lady's side, where now 
imprisoned in wooden walls, banished from 
living men, we waste our weary days." 

"But how long a time," said St. George, 
"are you to dwell in this tree?" 
[34] 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

"We may not change," said he, "until we 
are bathed in a living well." 

" O how," said he, " might I find out that 
well that may restore you to your shape?" 

"Time and fate shall restore us to our 
former kind. None else can help us," the 
tree replied. 

The false Duessa, now called Fidessa, 
heard how in vain Fradubio lamented, and 
knew well all was true* But the good 
Knight, full of fear and horror, when the 
tree had made this speech, thrust the bleed- 
ing bough into the ground that he might 
be innocent from the blood, and closed the 
v/ound with fresh clay. Then he turned to 
his Lady, who lay as if dead with fear, pre- 
tending not to know what well she knew. 
He busied himself to bring her out of her 
swoon. At last she began to lift up her eye- 
lids, and with woeful face he took her up 
and kissed her often. And when all fear 
was past, he set her on her steed, and for- 
ward both rode away. 



[35] 




CHAPTER IV, 

UNA AND THE LION. — THE LION KILLS A 
ROBBER.— ARCHIMAGO, DISGUISED AS ST. 
GEORGE, MEETS UNA. — SANSLOY, BROTHER 
OF SANSFOY, FIGHTS WITH ARCHIMAGO.— 
SANSLOY KILLS THE LION AND SEIZES 
UNA. 





CHAPTER IV 




OTHING moves compas- 
sion more than beauty be- 
ing brought to wretched- 
ness by envy or by freaks ,, 
of fortune. And now we 
could weep to think how 
Una through deception, 
though daughter of a king, 
though fair as ever living being was fair, 
though she had net in word or deed merited 
ill, is separated in despair from her Knight, 
and the love due her given to that vile witch. 
Yet she, most faithful Lady, forsaken, 
woeful, solitary, far from all crowds, as if 
in exile, strayed in the wilderness and in 
wasteful deserts to seek her Knight, who, 
subtly deceived by the vision which Archi- 
mago wrought, had abandoned her. She, 
fearful of nothing, daily sought him 
through woods and wide wastes, yet no 
tidings of him were brought to her. 
[39] 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

One day, weary of the irksome way, she 
alighted from her slow beast, and laid her 
dainty limbs on the grass, in the secret 
shade, far from all men's sight. From her 
fair head she took off her fillet, and she laid 
her black robe aside. Her angel's counte- 
nance shone bright as the sun, and made 
sunshine in that shady spot, for mortal eyes 
never beheld such heavenly grace. 

It happened that out of the thickest wood 
a ramping lion suddenly rushed, hunting 
after savage blood. Soon as he spied the 
royal virgin, he ran greedily at her with 
gaping mouth, as if at once he would de- 
vour her tender body. But when he drew 
nearer to his prey, his bloody rage was 
assuaged by pity, and, amazed at the sight, 
he forgot his fury. 

Instead, he kissed her weary feet, and 
licked her lily hands with fawning tongue, 
as if he knew her wronged innocence. O, 
beauty can master the strongest, and simple 
truth can subdue wrong. Though she had 
feared death, now when she saw this proud 
brute thus submissive, her heart began to 
melt with compassion, and she shed pure, 
affectionate tears. 

*'The Lion,'' she said, **lord of every 
beast in the field, does abate his princely 
[40] 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

might, and the proud yields to humble 
weakness, forgetful of his hungry rage in 
pity for my sad condition. But he, my noble 
lord, how does he find it in his cruel heart 
to hate her that loved and adored him? 
Why has he abhorred me?" 

Abundant tears choked the rest of her 
lament, which softly echoed through the 
wood. And, sad at seeing her sorrow, the 
kingly beast stood gazing upon her. His 
angry mood was calmed down with pity. 
At last, shutting up her pain in her heart, 
the virgin arose and got again upon her 
palfrey, to go in search of her Champion 
who had strayed from her. 

But the Lion would not leave her deso- 
late, but went along with her as her strong 
guard and a faithful mate of her troubles. 
Ever when she slept he kept watch, and 
when she waked he waited diligently to 
serve her will. He took his orders from 
her fair eyes and by her looks understood 
her desires. Long she thus travelled 
through wide deserts, where she thought 
her wandering Knight might pass. Yet 
she saw no living man, until at length she 
found trodden grass where there were 
tracks of people's feet, under a steep moun- 
tain. This way she followed until at last 
[41] 




THE FAERY QUEEN 






\ 



she spied a damsel walking slowly before 
her, and bearing upon her shoulders a 
waterpot. 

As she approached, Una began to call to 
know if any house was near at hand. But 
the rude girl did not answer her at all ; she 
would not hear, nor speak, nor understand. 
Till, seeing the Lion by her side, she threw 
her pitcher down with sudden fear and fled 
away; for never before in that land had 
she seen the face of a fair lady, and the 
look of that dreadful Lion made her pale as 
death. Fast she fled, nor ever looked be- 
hind. Home she ran, where her blind 
mother sat in darkness. She was not able 
to speak, but suddenly catching hold of her 
dame, she frightened her with her shaking 
hands and other signs of fear. Then full of 
fright she began to shut the door. By this 
time Una arrived and asked admission, 
which being refused, the lion with his rude 
claws rent the gate open and let her in, 
where Una found them both in darkness, 
almost dead with fear. But Una, to remove 
their needless fear, spoke fitting words, and 
prayed that she might rest in their cottage 
that night. 

When the day had gone and drowsy 
night had come, Una laid her down wearily, 
[42] . 







L 



THE FAERY QUEEN 

and at her feet the Lion kept watch, but 
she instead of sleeping lamented and wept 
for the loss of her beloved Knight. In the 
middle of the night, when all the others lay 
in deadly sleep, some one knocked at the 
door, and cursed and knocked so fast that 
he was not let in at once. For on his back 
he bore a heavy load of stolen goods which ^ 
he had gotten abroad by robbery. He was 
indeed a stout thief, by name Kirk-rapine, 
who was used to rob churches and poor 
men's boxes of alms. And all that he could 
find he brought to this house, and bestowed 
it upon Abessa, the daughter of the blind 
woman, Corceca. 

Thus he beat the door long with rage and 
threats, yet the women were afraid to rise 
to let him in, because of the Lion. At length 
he would stay outside no longer, and 
furiously broke the door down and entered, 
when the Lion, meeting him fiercely, seized 
him with his cruel claws and put him down 
under his lordly foot. It helped him not to 
struggle nor to call, for the beast soon rent 
him into a thousand pieces. His frightened 
friends did not dare to cry out nor seem to 
understand what had been done, for fear 
they might be dealt with in the same 
way. 

[43] .. 





THE FAERY QUEEN 

Now when the broad day had come, up 
Una rose, and the Lion, too, and they passed 
forward on their journey in unknown ways, 
to seek her wandering Knight. Still she 
sought him who fled from her. As soon as 
d|,ii)Jfe7l she left that house, the frightened women 
forsook their beds, and, finding the robber 
slain, they began to tear their hair and beat 
their breasts. And when they had wailed 
and wept their fill, they ran forth half 
crazed with desire for revenge, to follow 
her that had brought this evil upon them. 

When they had overtaken her, they be- 
gan to cry loudly and to rail at her. And 
they prayed that plagues and misery and 
mischief might fall upon her. But when 
they were weary with their curses, they 
turned back toward their home, and in the 
way they met a knight bearing mighty 
arms, who was not a knight at all, but the 
subtile Archimago, who sought Una, that 
he might bring new troubles upon her. He 
asked of those women if they could tell any- 
thing of such a lady as Una. 

Thereupon they began to renew their 
curses and cries, and to say that they had 
lately known that vile person, who had 
caused them to shed so many bitter tears. 
And then they told forth their tale. This 
[44] 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

Archimago seemed to mourn much for their 
mishap, and then inquired for that Lady, 
and when he had learned which way she 
had gone he rode forward with his lance in 
his hand. 

Before long, he came where Una 
travelled slowly, with her wild champion, 
the Lion, by her side. When he saw this 
beast, he feared to show himself too near, 
but turned away toward a hill. From thence 
she saw him, and by his shield, like that of 
her Knight, she thought it was he, and be- 
gan to ride toward him. Approaching near, 
she thought it was the same, and with 
timid humility she came toward him, and 
weeping said, *'Ah, my lord, where have 
you been so long out of my sight? Much 
I have feared to be so hated. What have I 
done that might displease you? Since my 
eyes have missed the joyful sight of you, 
my cheerful day is turned to cheerless night 
and my night is the shadow of death. But 
welcome now, my light and shining lamp 
of bliss.'* 

He, meeting her, said, "My dearest dame, 
far be it from your thought and from my 
will, to think that I should so shame knight- 
hood as to leave you that have loved me 
and chosen me in the Fairy court, where 
[45] 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

were to be found the noblest knights upon 
earth. The earth shall sooner lose her 
kindly skill to bring forth fruit, than I leave 
you, my life. And to say truth, why I left 
you so long Vv^as to seek an adventure in a 
strange place where Archimago said a 
strong felon worked daily disgrace upon 
many knights. But he shall never harm 
another knight. This is my excuse, and 
may it please you to accept it, and evermore 
embrace my faithful service, that have 
vowed to defend you by land and sea. Now 
then, cease your grief." 

His lovely words seemed due recompense 
for all her pain. One loving hour can make 
up for years of sorrow. A dram of sweet 
is worth a pound of sour. She has forgot- 
ten how many perils she has endured. She 
speaks no more of the past. True love has 
no power to look back; his eyes are fixed 
in front. Before her stands her Knight, as 
she thinks. 

As joyous as a mariner when he has come 
to port, was Una, now her knight was 
found. And the magician seemed no less 
joyous than a merchant whose ship comes 
safe with his goods. So they rode forth, 
and all the way they discoursed of her late 
sorrows, and he asked her what the Lion 
. [46]. 




THE FAERY QUEEN 



meant. And she told him all that happened 
to her, as they journeyed. 

They had not ridden far, when they saw 
one spurring toward them rapidly, strongly 
armed and mounted on a free courser that 
foamed with sweat. And he champed his 
bit with anger when his rider chafed his 
sides with the spurs. His look was stern, 
and he seemed to threaten cruel revenge. 
And he was Sansloy, the brother of Sans- 
foy, whom St. George had slain. 

When he drew near unto this pair, and 
saw the Redcross which the knight bore, he 
burned with rage, and began to prepare 
himself for battle with his couched spear. 
Archimago was loath to fight, and almost 
fainted with fear. But his Lady cheered 
him so well that he began to feel hope of 
good fortune. So he bent his spear and 
spurred his horse with his iron heel. 

But that proud Saracen came forward so 
fiercely that with his sharp spear he pierced 
quite through his shield, and had his horse 
not shrunk back through fear, he would 
have borne him through shield and body. 
Yet so great was the strength of his blow 
that he forced him from his saddle, so that 
he tumbled down to the ground and a well 
of blood gushed from his hurt. Dismount- 
[47] 



K 



/■ 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

ing lightly from his steed, he leaped upon 
him to take his life, and said proudly, *'Lo, 
there is the worthy reward of him that slew 
Sansfoy, my brother, with a bloody knife. 
Now he is avenged. You took life from 
Sansfoy, and Sansloy shall take yours." 

Therewith he hastily began to unlace his 
helmet, when Una cried, "O, hold your 
heavy hand, dear sir. Enough is it that 
your vanquished foe is at your mercy. For 
he is one of the truest knights alive, though 
now he lies conquered. While fortune 
favored him, he thrived fairly in a bloody 
field. Therefore do not take his life." 

Her piteous words could not lessen his 
rage, but roughly rending his helmet, he 
would have slain him at once. But when 
he saw the gray head of Archimago, he held 
back his hasty hand and wondered at the 
sight. For he knew the old man well, and 
that he had wondrous power in charms and 
magic, and was never used to fight in the 
fields nor in the lists. Then he said, *'Why, 
Archimago, unlucky man, what do I see? 
What hard mishap is this that has brought 
you here under my anger? Is it your fault 
or my error to wound my friend instead of 
a foe?" 

But he answered nothing, but lay still in 
[48] 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

a trance, and one would have thought he 
was near to death; which, when Sansloy 
saw, he stayed no longer by him, but went 
to Una, who all this while stood amazed 
that she was so mocked by him who had 
feigned to be her true knight. Yet was she 
now in more perplexity that she was left in 
the hand of that bold Saracen, from whom 
she was not able to fly. He now caught 
her by her garment and plucked her from 
her palfrey that he might see her face. 

But her fierce servant, the Lion, full of 
kingly rage, when he saw his lady so 
rudely handled by her foe, came at him 
with gaping, greedy mouth, and, leaping on 
his shield, tried to tear it away with his 
sharp, rending claws. But the Saracen was 
stout and snatched his shield away, and 
drew forth his sword. 

O, then too weak and feeble was the force 
of a savage beast to withstand his power. 
For he was strong, and as mighty in body 
as any who ever wielded a spear, and he 
understood well feats of arms. And he 
pierced through his chest with the thrill- 
ing point of the deadly iron, and even into 
his lordly heart. The Lion roared aloud, 
oppressed with death, while his life forsook 
him, 

[49] 






■^ 


r / 


r\ 


v€tf) 


w 



THE FAERY QUEEN 

Who now is left to guard the forlorn 
maiden? Her faithful guard is removed, 
and she is yielded a prey to the victor. He 
is now lord of the field and he utters foul 
reproaches and disdainful spite. 

And whether she would or no, he bore 
her away upon his courser. All the way, 
with great lamentings and piteous cries 
she fills his ears, so that a heart of stone 
would have been riven in twain. All the 
way she wets with flowing tears, but he, 
enraged with hate, listens to nothing. But 
her friendly palfrey would not leave her so, 
but follows her afar off; he does not fear 
to partake of her wanderings. He was 
more mild in beastly kind than her beastly 
foe. 



Z*^ 



CHAPTER V. 

THE REDCROSS KNIGHT GOES WITH 
DUESSA TO THE HOUSE OF PRIDE. — DAME 
PRIDE RECEIVES THEM. — ST. GEORGE 
MEETS SANSJOY, BROTHER OF SANSFOY 
AND SANSLOY. 




CHAPTER V 




ND now the Redcross 
Knight, St. George, who 
had been deceived by the 
subtle Archinaago and 
made to forsake the faith- 
ful Una and to follow the 
false Duessa, called Fi- 
dessa, travelled long and 
far with that ill woman. And at last they 
saw in front of them a goodly building that 
seemed to be the house of some mighty 
Prince. Toward it there led a broad high- 
way that was worn with the feet of the 
people who travelled thither. 

Great troops of people of every degree 
from every place travelled toward it day 
and night, but few returned from thence; 
and these were reduced to want or foully 
disgraced, and ever afterward lay in 
wretchedness, like loathsome beggars, by 
the hedges. Thither Duessa bade him turn 
[53] 



3^ 



THE FAERY QUEEN 

his horse, for she was weary of the toilsome 
journey, and the day was almost gone. 

Before them was a stately palace of 
square bricks, which were cunningly laid 
without mortar. The walls were high, but 
not thick nor strong, and gold foil was dis- 
played all over them, so that they outshone 
the brightest sky. There were many lofty 
towers, and goodly galleries, full of fair 
windows and delightful nooks. On the 
top was a dial that marked the passing 
time. 

It was a goodly heap to look upon. One 
could not see it without praising the work- 
man's skill that built it. But it seemed a 
great pity that so fair a house stood upon 
so weak a foundation; for it was placed 
upon a sandy hill, and every breeze shook 
it, and all the back parts, that few could 
see, were ruinous and old, but they were 
cunningly painted so as to deceive those 
who beheld them. 

Arrived there, they passed right in, for 
all the gates stood wide open, yet they were 
in charge of a porter called Malvenu, who 
denied no one entrance. Thence they went 
to the hall, which was decked on every side 
with rich array and costly arras. Many 
sorts of people stayed there, waiting long 

i54L. 



\ 









( 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

to obtain the sight of Dame Pride that was 
the Lady of the bright palace. 

But all these they passed, gazing round 
upon them, and mounted to the presence of 
the Lady, whose glorious appearance 
amazed their senses. Such riches and 
sumptuousness were never known in the 
court of any living prince. Persia itself, the 
home of pompous pride, never saw the like. 
There a noble crew of Lords and Ladies 
stood on every side, beautifying the place 
with their presence. 

High above all was spread a cloth of 
state, and a rich throne bright as a sunny 
day. On this there sat, bravely dressed 
with royal robes and gorgeous array, a 
maiden Queen, Dame Pride herself, who 
shone in glittering gold and peerless pre- 
cious stones. Yet her bright, blazing beauty 
dimmed the brightness of the throne. She 
shone proud in her princely state, looking 
toward heaven and disdaining the earth 
Underneath her feet lay a dreadful Dragon; 
in her hand she held a bright mirror, where^ 
m she often viewed her face, for she took 
great delight in her own semblance. 

She was the daughter of grisly Pluto and 
the sad Proserpina. Yet she thought her 
peerless worth above such parentage; she 
[55] 




7, 



A 



THE FAERY QUEEN 

was so swollen with vanity that she 
claimed for her father the thundering Jupi- 
ter, who dwells in heaven and rules the 
world. For she aspired to the highest, and 
if anything were higher than Jupiter she 
would have desired that. Men called her 
the proud Lucifera, who made herself a 
Queen, though she had no rightful kin^^- 
dom, but usurped the sceptre which she 
now held. Nor did she rule her realm with 
laws, but policy, and the advice of six old 
wizards who by their bad counsels upheld 
her kingdom. 

Soon as the Redcross Knight and the 
false Duessa came into her presence, a 
gentle usher, named Vanity, made room 
for them and brought them to the lowest 
step of her throne. There they made 
obeisance on their knees and declared the 
reason why they were come to see her royal 
state, to learn for themselves the truth as 
to the fame of her great Majesty. With 
lofty eyes, half loath to look so low, she 
thanked them in her proud manner. Nor 
did she show them any other favor worthy 
of a princess, scarcely bidding them arise. 

But her Lords and Ladies, having ar- 
ranged their ruffs and decked themselves 
in their gayest attire, began to entertain 
[56] 



f 







ul 






THE FAERY QUEEN 

the Knight, glad to have increased their 
number by his presence. And to Duessa 
each one took pains to show all kindness 
and fair courtesy, for in that court they had 
formerly known her well. Yet the stout 
Redcross Knight, among that crowd, 
thought all their glory vain, and the great 
Princess too exceeding proud who showed 
no better countenance to a strange knight. 

Suddenly the royal dame rose up from 
her stately place, and called for her coach. 
Then all rushed out while she with queenly 
pace went forth/ blazing brightly as the 
sun at the dawn. The crowds of people, 
thronging the hall, got each upon the other's 
back to gaze upon her. Her glory and 
light amazed all men's eyes. So she went 
forth and climbed to her coach, adorned 
with gold and garlands. She strove to 
match in her rich array Juno's golden chair, 
at which they say the gods stand gazing. 

Her coach was drawn by six beasts on 
which her six Counsellors rode. The first 
of these was Idleness, who chose to ride 
upon a slothful Ass. The second was Glut- 
tony, a deformed creature, who was 
mounted upon a Swine. Next Riot rode 
upon a bearded Goat. By his side was 
greedy Avarice, upon a Camel laden with 
[57] 



y- 




THE FAERY QUEEN 



gold. Next him was Envy, upon a raven- 
ous Wolf. Beside him rode fierce, aven?:- 
ing Wrath, upon a Lion. 

After all, upon the wagon beam, rode 
Satan, with a smarting whip in his hand, 
with which he lashed forward the lazy 
team. Huge crowds of people stood about 
them shouting for joy. Still before the way 
^ foggy mist covered all the land, and 
underneath their feet lay skulls and bones 
of men who had strayed into sin. 

So forth they marched to take the solace 
of the open air and to sport in the fresh, 
flowering fields. Among the rest rode that 
false, fair Lady, the foul Duessa, next the 
seat of the proud Lucifera. But the good 
Knight, disliking their vain joy, would not 
ride so near those who seemed unfit com- 
pany for a warrior. When they had en- 
joyed for a time the pleasure of the open 
fields, they all returned back to the princely 
house. 

And there they found a wandering knight 
clad in armor, and bearing a shield whereon 
was written in red letters the name Sans- 
joy^ And when he saw the shield of his 
dead brother, Sansfoy, that St. George had 
taken and kept in charge of his Dwarf, he 
burned with rage, for now he knew it was 
[58] 




) 



THE FAERY QUEEN 

the Redcross Knight that had slain him. 
He leaped upon the Dwarf and snatched 
away the shield, the gage of the victor's 
glory. But St. George, who owned that 
hard-won buckler, disdained to lose what 
he had won in fight, and fiercely rushing in, 
rescued the noble shield. 

Thereupon they began to battle fiercely, 
to clash their shields and shake their 
swords on high, so that with their stir they 
disturbed all the company. Then that great 
Queen commanded them to cease their fury, 
upon her high displeasure. And she said 
that if either of them had right to that 
shield they should fight for it on the next 
day in the lists. 

^*Ah, dearest Dame," said the Saracen, 
"forgive the error of an angry man, whom 
great grief made forget to hold the reins of 
reason. This is a recreant knight who 
through guile has slain the proudest knight 
that ever fought in a field, and whose 
shield he bears to heap scorn upon me. 
And, to increase his guilt, he has possessed 
himself of my brother's dearest love, the 
fair Fidessa. His brother's hand shall 
dearly repay him, if, O Queen, you will 
show equal favor." 

The angry knight St. George answered 
[S9] 




A 



THE FAERY QUEEN 

but little, for he meant to plead his right 
with swords, not words. But he threw 
down his gauntlet as a sacred pledge that 
he would try his cause in combat the next 
day. So they were both parted, each 
anxious to be avenged on his enemy. That 
night was passed in joy and feasting, both 
in bower and hall. And when all the courtly 
company had fallen asleep, up rose Duessa 
from her resting place, and silently went to 
the lodging of the Saracen, whom she found 
broad awake planning how he might over- 
come his enemy. 

To him Duessa spoke, *'Ah, dear Sansjoy, 
next dearest to Sansfoy, I grieve to think 
how his foe did destroy him that was the 
flower of grace and chivalry. Now his 
Fidessa flies to you, to get your secret 
faith." 

He began to greet her fairly with gentle 
words, and bade her say on the secret of 
her heart. Then she sighed softly, and 
said, "Since my heart was first pierced with 
love for dear Sansfoy I have never joyed 
an hour, but have wasted my weaker heart 
in woe, loving him with all my power, and 
for his sake have passed through many 
perils. At last, when I thought all dangers 
past, and hoped to reap the fruit of all 
[6ol 





THE FAERY QUEEN 

my care, I was cast into new woes by this 
false traitor who entrapped him with his 
guile, slew him, and brought him to a 
shameful grave. Then he carried me away, 
a silly maid, and ever since has kept me in 
a dark cavern. But now some light has 
come into my life by your presence. And 
to you belongs by right the love I gave him, 
your brother. Let not his love be unre- 
venged." 

Thereto he said, "Fair Dame, think not 
of sorrows past. Nor yet be afraid of pres- 
ent evil. It is useless to moan for what 
cannot be helped. Sansfoy is dead, and he 
lives who shall sacrifice in haste the guilty 
blood of this Knight." 

" Oh, but I fear," said she, " the freaks of 
fickle fortune and the odds of arms in the 
field of battle." 

"Why, Dame," he said, "what can be the 
odds where both fight alike to win or 
yield?" 

"Yes, but," she said, "he bears a charmed 
shield and enchanted armor that no one can 
pierce. And no one can wound the man 
who wields them." 

"Charmed or enchanted," he answered 
fiercely, "I care no whit. Nor need you to 
tell me of the like. But, fair Fidessa, since 
[6i] 



r 



THE FAERY QUEEN 

fortune has deceived you, or your enemy's 
power has made you a captive, go back 
whence you came, and rest awhile, until the 
morrow, when I shall overcome that Knight 
and give to you the dowry of the dead 
Sansfoy." 

"Wherever I am," she said, "my secret 
aid shall follow you." And, obeying him, 
she passed forth. 



[62] 



CHAPTER VI. 

THE BATTLE OF THE REDCROSS KNIGHT 
WITH SANSJOY. — A CLOUD HIDES SANSJOY. 
— THE VISIT OF DUESSA TO NIGHT. — SANS- 
JOY IS PLACED UNDER THE CARE OF 
^SCULAPIUS. — ST. GEORGE AND THE 
DWARF LEAVE THE HOUSE OF PRIDE. 









CHAPTER VI 

rLL night long the Redcross 
Knight lay wakeful, plan- 
ning how he might achieve 
the greatest honor in that , 
tournament. Thus waking 
he watched for the dawn- 
ing light. At last the 
sun hurled his glittering 
beams through the gloomy air, and then 
the Knight straightway started up and 
prepared himself with bright arms 
and the array of battle. For that 
day he would combat with the proud 
Saracen. 

And forth he went into the common hall, 
where many were waiting to know what 
might come to the stranger knights. There 
many Minstrels made melody, and many 
Bards were tuning their voices to the 
trembling strings of their harps. And 
Chroniclers were there who recorded old 
[65] 



s!^ 



THE FAERY QUEEN 

love stories and the wars that Lords made 
for their Ladies. 

Soon after came the cruel Saracen, 
armed with woven mail, and he sternly 
looked at the Redcross Knight, who cared 
not a pin for the look of any man. Then 
the servitors brought them wines and 
spices; and they bound themselves with a 
solemn oath to observe the sacred laws of 
arms. 

At last came forth the renowned Queen, 
with regal pomp and majesty. And she was 
brought to a grassy place, and set under a 
stately canopy, where she could see the 
warlike feats of both those knights. On the 
other side, in all men's view, Duessa was 
placed. And on a tree the shield of Sans- 
foy was hung. Both of these were to be 
won by the victor. 

A shrill trumpet sounded from on high, 
and bade them get ready for their battle. 
They tied their shining shields about their 
wrists, and they brandished their burning 
blades about their heads. With greedy 
force they assailed each other and im- 
pressed deep, dinted furrows in the battered 
mail. 

The Saracen was stout and wondrous 
strong, and heaped blows like great iron 
[66] 



Oi]^ 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

hammers, for he longed after blood and 
vengeance. The Knight was fierce and full 
of youthful heat, and doubled his strokes 
like the threatenings of dreaded thunders; 
and he fought for glory and honor. Both 
strike when struck, so that from their 
shields fiery light flies forth and the hewn 
helmets show deep marks of either's might. 

So the one strives for wrong and the 
other strives for right, and each would 
drive his foe to deadly shame. The cruel 
steel so greedily bites the tender flesh that 
streams of blood flow down, with which 
their armor, that at first shone bright, is 
now dyed into a pure vermilion. Great 
pity grew in the hearts of all who looked 
on, beholding the wide gaping wounds, so 
that they dared not wish victory for either 
side. 

At last the Saracen chanced to cast his 
eye, with wrathful fire, upon his brother's 
shield that hung near. Thereupon his rage 
was redoubled, and he cried, *'Ah, wretched 
son of an unhappy sire, do you sit wailing 
in the land of spirits while your shield 
hangs here as a reward of the victor? Let 
my sluggish blood be stirred to send after 
you your foe. Go, caitiff Knight, overtake 
your victim in the other world. Go, guilty 




.<^:j2L:f1 



THE FAERY QUEEN 

ghost, take him my message, that I have 
won his shield from his dying foe." 

Thereupon, he struck the Knight upon 
the crest, so that he reeled twice, and was 
ready twice to fall. This the lookers-on 
thought was the end of the battle, and the 
false Duessa, ready to be on the side of the 
victor, cried loudly to the Saracen, "The 
shield is yours, and so am I, and all." 

Soon as the Redcross Knight heard his 
Lady's voice, he began to awake out of his 
swoon, and his faith that had grown weak 
became stronger, and he shook away the 
deadly cold. Then, moved with wrath and 
shame, he desired to be avenged of all at 
once, and struck with such exceeding fury 
that he forced the Saracen to stoop upon 
his knee ; had he not stooped he would have 
been cloven through the head. And to him 
the Knight said, **Go now, proud miscreant, 
bear the message yourself to your dear 
brother. He has been wandering alone 
too long without you. Go, say his foe does 
bear his shield." 

Therewith he began to lift high his 
heavy hand to slay him, when, lo, a dark 
cloud fell upon the Saracen, and he van- 
ished from the eyes of the Redcross Knight. 
He called aloud to him, but received no 
[68] 






s 



THE FAERY QUEEN 

answer, for the darkness hid him. Then in 
haste Duessa rose from her seat, seeing St. 
George now the victor, and ready to be on 
the conqueror's side, whichever it might 
be, and she ran to him saying, **0, bravest 
Knight that ever lady chose for her love, 
now abate the terror of your might and 
gloomy vengeance. Lo, the infernal powers 
covering your foe with a cloud of 
night have borne him hence to Pluto's 
dwelling. The victory is yours ; I am yours ; 
the shield and the glory are yours." 

But not satisfied, the Knight with greedy 
eyes sought all about to bathe his sword in 
the blood of his faithless enemy, who all 
that while lay hidden in secret shadows. 
The Knight stood amazed how his foe had 
vanished thence. And last the trumpets 
sounded for his victory, and the running 
heralds did him homage, greeting him as 
conqueror, and they brought him the shield, 
the cause of the strife. 

With this the Knight went to the sov- 
ereign Queen, and, falling before her on his 
lowly knee, made the offer of his services, 
which she accepted with thanks and goodly 
favor. So they marched home, and by her 
rode the Knight whom all the people fol- 
lowed with great glee, shouting and clap- 
Leg] 




/. 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

ping all their hands on high so that the 
sound filled the air. 

Home the Knight was brought and laid 
in a sumptuous bed, for his hurts were 
painful, though not very grea*t, and there 
many skilful physicians dressed his wounds, 
that bled freshly. They washed his hurts 
with wine and oil. And all the while 
heavenly melody of sweet music was made 
to soothe his pain. And all the while 
Duessa wept bitterly in false grief. So wept 
Duessa until evening, and then she rose and 
went to the place where the Saracen knight 
lay in a swoon, covered with an enchanted 
cloud. And when she found him thus, she 
would not stay to mourn his woe, but made 
speedy way to the Eastern coast of the 
heavens, where grisly Night, with sad vis- 
age, and clad in a foul, black, pitchy mantle, 
was found coming from her dark home 
where she hid all day. Before the door 
her iron chariot stood, already harnessed 
for her new journey, and her coal black 
steeds were champing their rusty bits. 

When Night saw the fair Duessa, 
adorned with gold and jewels, she was 
amazed, and began to fear the unfamiliar 
light, for such brightness had never ap- 
peared in her realm before. She would 
[70] 





) 



THE FAERY QUEEN 

have retired back into her cave, when she 
heard the false one's voice, saying, "O 
dreaded Dame, wait till I have told my 
message." 

Then Night stayed, and Duessa began: 
**Oh, ancient Grandmother of all, why suf- 
fered you your dear nephews to fall before 
the sword of the Redcross Knight? Lo, 
the stout Sansjoy swoons. And before 
him, I saw the bold Sansfoy shrink beneath 
his spear. Who shall not scorn the chil- 
dren of great Night, when her nephews are 
so neglected? Up then, up. Dame, Queen 
of Darkness, go gather up the remains of 
your race. Or else avenge them." 

Her feeling speeches moved some com- 
passion in the heart of Night, who said, 
"Dear daughter, rightly may I pity the fall 
of my famous children and the successes of 
their foes. But who can turn the stream of 
destiny, or break the chain of necessity 
which is tied fast to Jove's eternal seat? I 
see that he favors the sons of Day, and 
thinks to make them great by my ruin. Yet 
shall the man who made Sansfoy fall pay 
with his own blood for that which he has 
spilt. But who are you, who tell me of the 
death of my nephews?" 

"I, that do not seem myself, am Duessa," 
[71] 




Lav 



.^, 



THE FAERY QUEEN 

said she, "though now arrayed in gorgeous 
gold. I am Duessa, the daughter of De- 
ceit and Shame." 

Then Night got upon her iron wagon 
head, kissed the wicked wretch, saying, 
**In that fair face I see the resemblance of 
Deceit. Yet you seemed so true that in 
this dark place I could scarcely discern it, 
though I am the mother of Falsehood. O, 
welcome, child, whom I have longed to see. 
Lo, now I will go with you." 

Then Night got upon her iron wagon, 
and with her bore the foul, but beautiful 
witch. She made her ready way through 
the murky air with her two-fold team, that 
softly swam away, trampling the fine ele- 
ment. So well they sped that they came 
at length to the place where the Saracen 
lay senseless, covered with the charmed 
cloud. His cruel wounds were congealed 
with blood, but they bound them as best 
they could, and laid him in the chariot. 
Thence turning back in silence they stole 
softly away and brought the body to the 
yawning gulf of Avernus. . . And there 
through the entrance, dark with smoke and 
sulphur, they drove their chariot down to 
Pluto's house. 

They passed the bitter waves of Acheron, 
[72] 





THE FAERY QUEEN 

and the flood of Phlegethon, and, before the 
house, they found the dreadful dog Cerbe- 
rus, who being appeased by Night, hung 
down his tail and suffered them to pass. 
There ancient Night alighted and, taking 
the Knight in her arms, bore him to Aescu- 
lapius. Then having softly taken off his 
armor to uncover all his wounds, she be- 
sought him, if salves or oils or herbs or 
charms could raise him from the door of 
death, that he would prolong her nephew's 
days. 

Then this learned man began to treat the 
wounds with his cunning hand, and all 
things that his art taught. Having seen 
this, the mother of darkness rose to go 
away, leaving the Saracen in the care of 
Aesculapius. Back she returned to run her 
race, while the Sun drew his wagon through 
the Western waves. 

The false Duessa, leaving Night, re- 
turned to the stately palace of Dame Pride, 
where when she came she found St. George 
gone thence, although his wounds were not 
well healed. Good cause he had to hasten 
from that place, for one day his wary Dwarf 
had spied where in a deep dungeon large 
numbers of captive knights were kep^. 
The Dwarf had learned secretly the cause 
[73] 



L 





la^ 



THE FAERY QUEEN 

of their imprisonment, how Covetousness, 
Riot, Tyranny, Wrath, and Envy had con- 
demned them to that dungeon, where they 
lived in woe and died in wretchedness. 

And when the careful Dwarf had told 
their case and their mournful sight to his 
Master, he would stay no longer in peril of 
such a fate. But he rose early, and before 
the dawn he fled by a private gate, that no 
envious eyes might see him, for doubtless 
death would have followed if he had been 
found. 

He could scarcely find footing in that 
road, for the corpses of murdered men that 
were strewed there, which came to a shame- 
ful end through the great Princess Pride. 
As he rode underneath the castle wall, he 
spied a great heap of carcasses, the dread- 
ful spectacle of that sad house of Pride. 



[74] 




CHAPTER VII. 

UNA, HAVING BEEN CARRIED OFF BY 
SANSLOY, IS RESCUED BY THE WOOD- 
FOLK. — SHE LIVES WITH THEM A WHILE. — 
SIR SATYRANE COMES TO HER HELP.— HE 
FIGHTS WITH SANSLOY. — UNA ESCAPES. 





CHAPTER VII 

HE Redcross Knight was 
as glad of his escape as a 
sailor when his ship has 
passed a dangerous rock. 
Yet he was sad that his 
hasty flight had forced 
him to leave the fair 
Duessa behind, for he still 
did not know how evil she was. He was 
yet more sad when he thought of Una, and 
how, as he believed, he had been deceived 
by her. 

Whereas Una, for the love of him, had 
wandered from one end of the land to the 
other, seeking him, until she had been cap- 
tured by the fierce Sansloy, who after the 
defeat of Archimago^ led her away into a 
wild forest. There she was in great dis- 
tress and despaired of help. 

At last the piteous maiden threw out 
thrilling shrieks, the last vain help of 



%^ 



THE FAERY QUEEN 



woman's great distress, and with loud 
plaints prayed the skies. But the eternal 
Providence can make a way where none 
appears. A wondrous way was made for 
this Lady, when the Lion came to her help. 
And now her shrill outcries and shrieks re- 
sounded through all the woods and forests. 
And it chanced that a troop of wild wood- 
people, the Fauns and Satyrs, were dancing 
round far away within the wood, while 
their god Sylvanus slept soundly in a shady 
arbor. When they heard that piteous voice, 
they forsook in haste their rural mirth to 
learn what wight lamented so loudly. They 
came running to the place. 

And when the Saracen saw these rude, 
misshapen folk, whose like he had never 
seen before, he dared not tarry, but got 
upon his ready steed and began to rapidly 
ride away. These wild folk found the vir- 
gin doleful and desolate, with ruffled gar- 
ments, and fair face wet with tears, as her 
foe had left her. They stood amazed at so 
sad a sight, and began to pity her unhappy 
state. They stood astonished at her bright 
beauty, so undeserving, in their rude eyes, 
of such a plight. 

She was more amazed than they, and 

trembled for fear. She had such a fit of 

[78] 





THE FAERY QUEEN 

trembling, and spoke no word, so that the 
savage folk felt her pain and read her sor- 
row in her sad face. Though their fore- 
heads were clad with rough horns^ they 
gently smiled, and, to put away her fear, 
they bent their knees to show that they 
would obey her. She was uncertain 
whether she could trust herself to them or 
no. But they, in pity for her tender youth, 
and wondering at her beauty, fell upon the 
lowly plain and kissed her feet. 

Their hearts she guessed by these acts, 
and she fearlessly rose from the ground and 
walked among them without suspicion. 
They were as glad as birds at dawn, and 
led her forth, dancing about her, shouting 
and singing shepherds' songs, strewing the 
ground with green branches, and crown- 
ing her with an olive garland, they wor- 
shipped her as their Queen. 

Sounding their merry pipes, so that the 
woods rang with the echo, wearing the 
ground with their horny feet, they leaped 
like lambs in the Springtime. So they 
brought her toward their old god, Sylvanus, 
who, wakened from his sleep, came out to 
learn the cause of the noise. Leaning upon 
his cypress staff, and with his waist girt 
about with ivy, he came wondering what 

{79] 




« 



THE FAERY QUEEN 

made them so glad. And they drawing 
nigh presented Una to their God. He stood 
long amazed, beholding her beauty. 

The woods people fell flat before her, and 
worshipped her as Goddess of the woods, 
while old Sylvanus doubted if she was of 
earthly birth. The wood Nymphs, the 
Hamadryads, ran thither to behold her, 
a»d all the troop of light-footed Naiads 
flocked about to see her lovely face. But 
when they viewed her heavenly beauty, they 
envied her and fled away. But all the 
. Satyrs scorned their woody kind and hence- 
lN forth found nothing fair on earth but Una. 

Glad of such good fortune, the lucky maid 
contented herself to please their eyes, and 
for a long time stayed with that savage 
people to gather breath from her troubles, 
during which time she plied her gentle wit 
to teach them truth, and to keep them from 
worshipping her. But when she restrained 
them from her own worship, they would 
have fain worshipped the lowly animal she 
rode, the Ass. 

It happened one day that a noble, war- 
like knight, named Sir Satyrane, who had 
been born there, came to that forest to seek 
his kindred. He had won much fame abroad 
in arms, and filled far lands with the glory 
[80] 



/ 




iJ 



THE FAERY QUEEN 

of his deeds. He was plain, faithful, true, 
and ever loved to fight for the rights of 
ladies, but he took no pleasure in vain- 
glorious battles. He was a Satyr's son, 
born in the wild forest; but his mother was 
a Lady, who was bound in sacred wedlock 
to Therion, a loose, unruly swain, who had 
more joy to range the wide forest and chase 
the savage beast than serve his Lady. 

He was nursed in the wild life and 
manners among wild beasts and woods. He 
was taught to banish fear and cowardice, 
and forced to put his trembling hand upon 
the Lion and the rugged Bear, and to tear 
her cubs from the Bear's den, and to tame 
wild Bulls and ride their backs, and to over- 
take the Roebucks in their flight, so that 
every beast flew from him in fear. Thereby 
he grew so fearless that his own sire often 
trembled before him. And to prove his 
power he complied wild beasts to work 
under iron yokes. He had such joy to tame 
their stubborn hearts. 

His loving mother, who had been sent 
away, when he was a child, to her own 
home, came one day into the woods to see 
her little son, and chanced to meet him in 
the way when he was carrying a Lion's cubs 
in his rugged arms, and lulling them with- 
[8i] 




^^ 



f. 


TO 


/ / i V ! 


/i 


Rw ^ 




IC^ 


\V 


\a]Wj 



-^^^==3^ 



THE FAERY QUEEN 

out fear, and after him the Lioness was run- 
ning, roaring with rage. His timid mother 
quaked with fear, and turning back began 
to flee, until he called her kindly and per- 
suaded her to stay. And then she began 
with these womanish words to say, "Oh, 
Satyrane, my darling, and my joy, leave 
off for love of me this dreadful play. It is 
not fit to dally thus with death. Go find 
some other play-fellow. 

In these delights, he was trained until he 
reached riper years. Then his heart de- 
sired to be known by foreign foes, and he 
sought far abroad for strange adventures. 
Yet evermore it was his custom, after long 
labors and adventures to repair to his 
native woods, to see his sire. And now he 
had come thither for this purpose, when he 
found the fair Una, a strange Lady, teach- 
ing the Satyrs, who sat around her, true, 
holy learning, from her sweet lips. 

He wondered at her fair, heavenly wis- 
dom, such as he had never known in 
women, and began to admire her and pity 
her sorrows. He blamed fortune, which put 
such troubles upon a gentle Lady, who was 
so harmless and true. Thenceforth he kept 
her goodly company, and learned from her 
faith and truth. But she, being vowed to 
[82] 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

the Redcross Knight^ ever lamented his 
perils, nor could delight in a new acquaint- 
ance. But she tormented her dear heart, 
and spent all her wit secretly to know how 
to escape from that wood. 

At last she secretly told Satyrane her de- 
sire, and he, glad to please her, began to 
plan how he might take that passive maid 
away. So on a day when all the Satyrs were 
gone to do homage to old Sylvanus, their 
god, he with stout, bold heart led away the 
gentle virgin, who had been left behind. 
So fast he carried her that they were soon 
past the woods and came to the open 
plain. 

They had travelled now the greater part 
of the day, when they spied a weary man 
wandering by the way, and toward him 
they began to ride hastily to learn what 
news had happened abroad, or to get 
tidings of the Redcross Knight. But he, 
spying them, began to turn aside, as if he 
feared them. But they rode fast, and soon 
crossed his path. He seemed a silly man, 
and was dressed in simple old clothes, 
soiled by the dust of the long way. His 
sandals were torn with toilsome travel, and 
his face was tanned with the scorching rays 
of the sun, as if he had travelled many hot 

[83] 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

days through the broiling sands of Arabia 
or India. In his hand he bore a staff to 
stay his weary limbs upon. And behind he 
bore a bag, in which he carried what he 
needed. 

Satyrane, approaching near, inquired of 
him tidings of war and of new adventures, 
but he said he had heard nothing of these. 
Then Una began to ask if he knew aught of 
her champion, who bore on his armor a red 
cross. 

"Ah me, dear Dame," he said, "well may 
I rue to tell the sad sight which my eyes 
have seen. These eyes did see that Knight 
both living and dead." 

That cruel word so thrilled her heart, that 
! suddenly the cold ran through every vein, 
and all her senses were filled with horror, 
so that down she fell. The knight lightly 
lifted her up again, and comforted her with 
courteous words. Then the stranger said, 
"I chanced on that fatal day to see two 
knights on my way, arranged for battle, 
both breathing vengeance. Mj' flesh 
trembled at the strife, to see their swords 
so greedily drink each other's blood. What 
more? The Redcross Knight was slain by 
the Saracen's knife." 

"Ah, dearest Lord," said she, "how might 
[84] 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

that be, when he was the stoutest knight 
who ever won a fight?" 

"Ah, dearest Dame," he said, "yet this 
was done." 

"Where," said Satyrane, "is that Saracen, 
that took from him Hfe and from us joy?" 

"He is not far away," he said, "I left him 
but late near a fountain, where he was 
washing his bloody wounds, that were cleft 
by the steel." 

Therewith Satyrane marched forth in 
haste, while Una, oppressed with grief, 
could not follow fast for sorrow. And soon 
he came where the Saracen rested himself 
by the side of a fountain. And it was he 
who had oppressed the fair Una. When 
Satyrane saw him, he boldly defied him 
with reproachful words, saying, "Arise, 
thou cursed Miscreant, who dost boast that 
thou hast slain the good Knight of the Red- 
cross. Arise and maintain thy guilty 
wrong, or else yield to me." 

The Saracen, hearing this, arose at once, 
and catching up his shield, and helmet, 
buckled himself for the field. And draw- 
ing near, he said, "In an evil hour your foes 
sent you here to punish another's wrongs. 
Yet you blame me ill. The Redcross Knight 
I never slew, but had he been behind the 
[85] 



r 



K2/\ 




K 


\\ 


S 
OT 


%/ "^ 



</. -^.! 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

shield I thought was his, the enchanter 
Archimago would not rue his error. But 
you, I hope, shall prove his error true." 

Therewith they began furiously to thun^ 
der blows, and fiercely to assail each other. 
They were so bent to quell each his foe 
that with their force they pierced their 
armor and made wide furrows in their 
flesh, that any living eye would have pitied. 
So long they fought, pursuing revenge, that 
they were compelled to take time to 
breathe and then, refreshed, they renewed 
the battle. 

So fiercely when these knights had 
breathed once, did they return to the fight, 
increasing their force and cruel rage with 
mighty strokes, that with their dreadful 
wounds and bloody gore they both could 
scarcely be known. 

By this, the sad Una, led by their noise, 
arrived where they had sown the earth 
with their blood. And her, when the proud 
Saracen spied, he left the battle hastily to 
catch her, newly offered to his eye. But 
Satyrane turned him with his strokes, and 
sternly bade him ply other business than 
hunting the steps of a maid. Then the 
Saracen cried, "O, foolish man, what mad 
fury has led you to your fate? Were it not 
[86] 




T^E FAERY QUEEN 

better that I had the Lady tlia^ 
should repent too late? Senseless man to 
hate himself. Lo, then for your aid, take 
this lover's token on your head." 

So they return to fight, while the royal 
Maid fled far away, through fear of that 
proud Saracen. 

But that false stranger, who told of the 
death of the Redcross Knight, was indeed 
Archimago, and he stayed in the shadow 
and much rejoiced in the bloody fight. But 
when he saw the damsel pass away, he left 
his place and pursued her in hope to yet 
bring her to her end. 




CHAPTER VIII. 

THE REDCROSS KNIGHT DRINKS OF A 
FOUNTAIN THAT WEAKENS HIM. — HE 
BATTLES WITH A GIANT AND IS OVER- 
COME. ^ HE IS CAST INTO PRISON. — THE 
DWARF CARRIES THE NEWS TO UNA. — 
UNA MEETS PRINCE ARTHUR, WHO 
PROMISES TO FREE HER KNIGHT. 






HEN the fair but foul 
Duessa returned with 
Night and came to the 
House of Pride and found 
that the noble Redcross 
Knight, her hoped prey, 
had gone, she would no 
longer abide there, but 
went forth to seek him. Ere long she found 
him where he sat wearily to rest himself 
beside a fountain. He had disarmed him- 
self of his iron coat, and by his side his 
steed ate the grassy forage. 

The Knight was bathing his sweating ,,j. y 
forehead in the breathing wind, which ,^ .-^• 
played gently through the trembling leaves, ^^fi^/f 
There the cheerful birds of many kinds 
chanted music to delight him. The witch 
Duessa approaching him, greeted him 
fairly, and upbraided him for his unkind- 
ness in leaving her in the palace of Pride; 
[91] 



^^^ 



ja^ 



THE FAERY QUEEN 

but she mixed fair words with harsh ones. 
Then forgetting unkindness, they began to 
talk of pleasant things and to bathe in 
the joyous shade, which shielded them 
from the boiling heat and decked with 
green boughs the fountain, as with a gar- 
land. 

The bubbling waves of this fountain 
welled up freshly always, nor ever were 
dried up through the fervent summer; but 
the sacred Nymph, who was wont to dwell 
there, was under the displeasure of Diana. 

The cause was this: one day when the 
fair Phoebe was following the chase with 
all her band, this Nymph, tired with the 
heat, sat down to rest in the midst of the 
race. The Goddess was angry, and to dis- 
grace her bade the waters of her fountain 
, to be like herself. Henceforth these waters 
were dull and slow, and all that drank of 
them became faint and feeble. 

Of this the Redcross Knight knew noth- 
ing, and lying down upon the sand he 
drank of the stream, as clear as glass. And 
soon his manly force began to fail, and his 
mighty strength was turned to feebleness. 
Yet he still paid court to his Dame, care- 
less of his health and of his fame. At last 
he heard a dreadful sound which bellowed 
[92] 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

through the woods, so that the earth seemed 
to shake for terror, and the trees trembled. 
The Knight was therewith astonished, 
started up lightly, and began to take in 
hand his unready weapons. 

But before he could deck himself with 
his armor or get his shield, his monstrous 
enemy, a hideous Giant, high and horrible, 
came stalking near with sturdy steps. With 
his tallness he seemed to threaten the sky, 
and the ground groaned under him for fear. 
His like no eye ever saw. His stature ex- 
ceeded the height of three of the tallest men. 
The great Earth was his mother, and the 
wind -ffiolus was his sire. He was so big, 
and he was so proud of his high descent 
that he scorned all other powers and 
knighthood. He carried in his hand an 
oak tree, which he had torn up by the roots, 
and used it as his club. 

When he spied the Knight, he began to 
advance with dreadful fury. The Knight 
in vain ran to array himself for battle, but 
he was disarmed, disgraced, and inwardly 
dismayed, and so faint in every joint, 
through using the waters of that fountain, 
that he could scarcely wield his sword. The 
Giant struck at him so mercilessly, that his 
blow would have overthrown a tower. 
[93I 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

But he was wary of that deadly blow and 
lightly leaped aside, yet the wind of the 
blow was so exceedingly powerful that he 
was overthrown and lay stunned upon the 
ground. 

His heavy hand the Giant heaved on high 
and would have quite battered the Knight 
to dust, but Duessa began to cry, *'0, great 
Orgoglio, hold your deadly hand for a 
lady's sake. Hold for my sake, and slay 
him not, but make hint your eternal bond- 
slave, and take me as your love." 

He listened, and stayed his hand from 
further harms. Then up he took the sense- 
less body of the Knight, and, before he 
awakened from his swoon, brought him 
hastily to his castle, and threw him into a 
deep dungeon. And to Duessa he gave 
gold and purple to wear, and a triple crown 
for her head. And to make her feared of 
men, he chose a monstrous beast that he 
had long kept in a den, an ugly monster, 
with seven great heads, an iron breast, and 
back of scaly brass. Its tail was stretched 
out in wondrous length. Upon this dread- 
ful beast he set the false Duessa, for awe 
and dread. 

The woeful Dwarf, when he saw his 
master's fall, had been keeping his grazing 
[94] 







THE FAERY QUEEN 

horse. When the valiant Knight was cast 
into the prison, the Dwarf took his mighty 
armor, his silver shield, his sharp spear, 
and departed with them to tell his friends 
of his distress. He had not travelled long, 
when on the way he met the sad Una flee- 
ing from the Saracen, while Satyrane kept 
him from pursuit. When Una set her eyes 
on the Dwarf, and saw him travelling alone 
with the armor of his master, she fell to the 
ground, knowing some great misfortune 
had happened to the Redcross Knight. 

The Dwarf was sad at the unhappy news , 
he must tell, but he recovered heart and vL 
rubbed her temples, and raised her thrice 
from her swoons. At last with faltering 
tongue, she bade him tell the woeful tale. 
Then the Dwarf declared the whole story 
of the subtle tricks of Archimago: he told 
how Duessa had been taken from the van^ls 
quished Saracen; of the wretched pair 
turned into trees; of the House of Pride 
and the perils thereof; of the combat with 
Sansjoy ; and of the conflict with the Giant, 
who had made the Knight his captive. 

Una heard all this with patience to the 
end, but her heart was almost rent in twain. 
At last she rose up, resolving to find her 
Knight alive or deado And forward they 
[95] 





THE FAERY QUEEN 

went, as the Dwarf pointed out the way. 
High over the hills and low down in the 
valleys, she wandered. 

At last she chanced by good fortune to 
meet a goodly knight, who was marching 
by the way, and with him was his squire, 
fitly arrayed. His armor shone far off, like 
the brightest rays of the sun. From top to 
toe no point was exposed that could be 
pierced by the steel of an enemy. Across 
his breast he wore a brave belt, that shone 
like stars with rare and precious stones. 
And in the midst thereof was one precious 
stone of wondrous worth, shaped like a 
lady's head. By his belt hung his deadly 
sword, in an ivory shield, carved curiously; 
the hilt was burnished gold, and the handle 
mother of pearl. His haughty helmet was 
all gold, causing terror because of its 
brightness; on the crest was a Dragon, 
with greedy paws, and over it all were 
spread its golden wings; its head, close 
couched on the beaver, seemed to throw 
red sparks from its flaming mouth ; and the 
scaly tail was stretched low down his back. 

Upon the top of his lofty crest was a 
bunch of many colored hairs, sprinkled 
with pearls and gold, and this shook and 
danced as if for jollity. 
[96] 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

His warlike shield was all closely cov- 
ered, nor might be seen by mortal eye. It 
was not made of steel, nor of enduring 
brass, as such earthly metals are soon 
rusted away; but it was framed of one 
mighty Diamond, perfect and pure, so that 
no point of a spear could pierce it, nor 
blow of sword divide it. This, its owner, 
who was the great Prince Arthur, never re- 
vealed to any foe, unless he would dismay 
some huge monster, or daunt whole armies, 
and then he would use it to terrify them. 
No magic arts had any power over it; and 
all things that were not what they seemed 
faded away before that shield. And when 
he would confound rascals, he could by its 
means turn men into stone and stones into 
dust, and dust to nothing. And when he 
would subdue the proud, he would blind 
them by the sight of it, or change them into 
other colors. 

This shield, with the sword and armor, 
were made for Prince Arthur by Merlin, 
who excelled all men in magic. 

A gentle youth, his dearly loved squire, 
bore behind him his spear of ebony, whose 
head, three times heated in the flames, had 
riven many a breast. He was a goodly 
person, who could fairly manage his stub- 
[97] 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

born steed with a curbed bit, that chafed 
that any should sit on his back. 

When Arthur drew near to this Lady, he 
began to greet her courteously, and when 
he heard her unwilling answers he saw that 
some secret sorrow distressed her heart. 
And to calm her pain, he spoke fair, feeling 
words fitted to her humor, to tempt her to 
tell the cause of her sorrow. 

His goodly reason and his well-guided 
speech settled so deeply in her gracious 
thought, that she was persuaded to dis- 
close the hurt that love and fortune had 
made in her heart, and she said, "Fair Sir, 
I hope good fortune has brought you to in- 
quire the secret of my grief, or that your 
wisdom may direct me, or your courage 
yield me relief. Then hear my sad story." 

Then she told Arthur that she was the 
daughter of a great queen and king whose 
cruel enemy, a huge great Dragon, had 
ravaged their land, and forced her parents 
to flee for safety into a strong castle with 
mighty brass wails, where he had kept 
them besieged now for four years. She 
said that many knights had come to slay 
this monster, but they had all failed in this 
hard achievement. At last she had been 
led by their fame to seek the help of some 
[98] 



i THE FAERY QUEEN 

fl of the doughty knights that lived in Fairy 
land, and she had gone to the court of 
Gloriana, to obtain some such redoubted 
knight, that he might deliver her dear 
parents from their tyrant's power. There 
she had found a fresh, unproved knight, 
whose manly hands had never been imbued 
in blood, but that he had since shown his 
prowess in many a bloody fight. She said 
that the armor and weapons that the Dwarf 
bore could tell his deeds. She had hoped 
from his fair beginnings that he could re- 
deem her captives, till an Enchanter had 
deceived him and made him doubt her 
loyalty, so that he henceforth forsook her 
and left her to wander where wild fortune 
led her. He had taken himself by other 
ways, in which he met the false Duessa, 
her only foe, who with her witchcraft had 
inveigled him to follow her. At last Duessa 
had betrayed him and thrown him as cap- 
tive into a dungeon. "This is my cause of 
grief,'' she said, "more great than may be 
told." 

Before she had ended she began to faint, 
but Arthur comforted her and said, "Truly, 
Madame, you have great cause for grief, 
that would cause > the stoutest heart to 
quake. But be of good cheer, and take 

[99] 




> 



CHAPTER IX. 

PRINCE ARTHUR BATTLES WITH THE 
GIANT AND SLAYS HIM.— HE DELIVERS 
THE REDCROSS KNIGHT FROM PRISON 
AND RESTORES HIM TO UNA. — THEY UN- 
MASK THE WITCH DUESSA AND DRIVE 
HER AWAY. 





CHAPTER IX 




HEY sadly travelled thus 
until they came near a 
strong and high castle, 
when the Dwarf cried, 
" Lo, yonder is the place, 
in which my lord lies cap- 
tive to that Giant's ty- 
ranny. Therefore, dear 
sir, try your mighty powers." 

The noble knight by-and-by alighted 
from his lofty steed, and bade the Lady 
wait there to see the end of the fight. So, 
with his Squire, Arthur marched toward 
the castle, whose gates he found shut fast, 
with no one to guard them nor to answer 
a call. 

Then the Squire took the bugle that hiing 
in twisted gold and gay tassels by his side. 
Great wonders of that horn were told. No 
man ever heard that sound but he trembled 
in every vein. Three miles around it might 
[103] 



THE FAERY QUEEN 

easily be heard, and three echoes answered 
again. No false enchantment might once 
abide the terror of that blast. There was 
no gate so strong, no lock so fast and firm 
but would burst or fly open with that 
piercing noise. 

The same he blew before the Giant's 
gate, so that all the castle quaked from the 
ground, and every door flew open of its 
own free will. The Giant himself was dis- 
mayed with that sound, and in haste came 
rushing from an inner room, with staring, 
stern countenance, and staggering steps, to 
know what sudden peril had dared his 
dreaded power. 

And after him the proud Duessa came, 
high mounted on her many-headed beast, 
every head flaming with a fiery tongue, and 
his mouth bloody from a late feast. And 
when the knight beheld him, he soon placed 
his mighty shield upon his manly arm and 
flew fiercely at him, filled with courage and 
thrilling eagerness in every limb. 

Therewith the Giant buckled him to 
fight, inflamed with a scornful wrath, and 
lifting up his dreadful club on high, all 
armed with ragged knots, he thought to 
have slain him at the first encounter. But 
the noble prince was wise and wary, and 
[104] 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

leaped lightly aside from so monstrous a 
blow, for he could not endure such a thun- 
derbolt. Nor was it shame to shun such 
hideous force. The dire stroke, missing its 
mark, fell to the ground, and was so deeply 
driven into the clay that it ploughed up a 
furrow three yards deep. The earth groaned 
underneath the blow, and trembled with 
strange fear as from an earthquake. 

His boisterous club was so buried in the 
ground that the Giant could not lightly lift 
it up again; and the Knight found his foe 
at disadvantage. And while he strove to 
get his club out of the earth, Arthur with 
his sword, all burning bright, smote off his 
left arm, which fell like a block to the earth. 
Large streams of blood gushed forth like 
waters from a riven rock. Dismayed with 
so desperate a wound, and angry at the un- 
wonted pain, he loudly brayed, so that all 
the fields rebellowed again. 

And when his dear Duessa heard this 
noise, and saw the evil blow that endan- 
gered her lord, she hastily drew to his 
aid her dreadful beast. He came ramping 
forth, and threatened with all his heads as 
if they were fiery brands. But the Squire 
fiercely encountering him with his single 
sword, made him quickly retreat, and 
[105] 




^ 



THE FAERY QUEEN 

stood between him and Arthur like a 
bulwark. 

The proud Duessa, full of wrath at being 
affronted so^ forced her beast forward with 
all her power that he might cast down this 
man out of the way, for she scorned to be 
stopped by so unequal a foe. But that 
courageous Squire would not yield her pas- 
sage to go against his lord, but with terri- 
ble strokes restrained him, and barred the 
way with his body. 

Then the angry witch took her golden 
cup, which she carried filled with magic 
stuff, death and despair and secret poison. 
And when she had said some magic words, 
she lightly sprinkled this upon the Squire, 
so that his senses were dismayed with sud- 
den fear. So down he fell before the cruel 
beast, who seized on his neck with his 
bloody claws and nearly crushed the life 
out of his panting breast. He had no power 
to stir nor will to rise. 

This when Prince Arthur saw he lightly 
left the Giant with whom he fought, and 
turned his enterprise toward the beast, for 
great anguish was in his heart to see his be- 
loved Squire brought to such peril. And 
high advancing his blood-thirsty blade he 
struck one of the deformed heads of the 
[io6] , 



I 

I 

i 
i 



h 



L 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

dragon, tearing his monstrous scalp down 
to his teeth. A sea of blood gushed from 
the gaping wound, that stained Duessa's 
gay garments with filthy gore and over- 
flowed all the field, where Arthur waded in 
blood over his shoes. 

Whereat the Dragon roared for exceed- 
ing pain and, whipping the empty air with 
his great tail, he would have cast down his 
gorgeous rider from her lofty place, had 
not the Giant helped her; for he, enraged 
with pain and frantic wrath, came rushing 
up and forced Arthur to retire. Then put- 
ting all his force into his one hand, he 
lifted his club aloft and smote at his foe 
with such furious strength that he would 
have overthrown the strongest oak. The 
stroke alighted upon Arthur's shield, so 
that it doubled him low to the ground. And 
in his fall, his shield, that had been covered, 
lost its veil and flew open. The light of it 
was brighter than the sun; such blazing 
brightness flew through the air that no eye 
could endure the sight. Which when the 
Giant saw, he let his arm fall down, and 
withdrew his weapon that was lifted on 
high to have slain the man that lay on the 
ground. 

Also the many-headed beast, amazed at 
[107] 



u 



THE FAERY QUEEN 

the flashing beams of that sunny shield, be- 
came stark blind so that down he tumbled 
on the earth and seemed to submit himself 
as conquered. When his proud mistress 
saw him fall, she cried loudly to the Giant, 
*'0 ! help, Orgoglio, help or we perish." 

At her piteous cry her stout champion 
was much moved, and to aid his friend he 
tried his angry weapon, but all in vain, for 
he had met his end in that bright shield, 
and all his forces spent themselves in vain. 
Since he looked on that shield, he had no 
power to hurt nor to defend himself, more 
than when the Almighty's lightning brand 
dims the dazed eyes and terrifies the senses. 

And when Prince Arthur addressed him- 
self anew to the battle and threatened high 
his dreadful stroke, he blessed his sparkling 
blade about his head, and smote off the 
Giant's right leg by the knee, so that he 
tumbled down, like an aged tree falling 
from the top of a rocky hill, or a castle 
undermined from the foundation. Such was 
this Giant's fall, that seemed to shake the 
steadfast earth. 

Then Arthur, lightly leaping on his prey, 
smote him again with his deadly steely cut- 
ting his head from his unwieldy body. 
There he wallowed in his own foul, bloody 
[io8] 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

gore, which flowed from his wounds in 
wondrous streams. 

When the false Duessa saw his grievous 
fall, she cast her golden cup to the ground 
and threw her mitre rudely aside. Such 
piercing grief wounded her heart that she 
could not endure that sad blow, but leaving 
all behind her, turned to flee away. But the 
light-footed Squire quickly turned her about 
and brought her as a captive to his master. 

When the royal virgin, Una, saw from 
afar the whole of this doubtful war, she 
came running fast to greet the conqueror 
with sober gladness and mild modesty. And 
with sweet, joyous face she spoke : " Fair 
branch of nobility, flower of chivalry, that 
have amazed the world with your worthy 
how shall I reward you for the pains you 
have suffered for my sake? And you, 
young Squire, fresh bud of virtue, whom 
these eyes saw near death's door, what has 
a poor virgin wherewith to reward you for 
such perils? Accept, therefore, my service 
evermore. And may God, who sees all 
things with equal eye, behold what you 
have done this day for me. But since the 
heavens have made you master of the field, 
may all end well. Nor do you let that 
wicked woman escape, for she it is that en- 
[109] 




A 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

thralled my lord, and laid him in a deep 
dungeon, where he has wasted his days. Oh, 
hear how piteously he calls to you for help." 

Forthwith, Arthur gave Duessa in charge 
of his Squire to keep her carefully while he 
himself with great desire entered forcibly 
into the castle, where he saw no living 
creature. Then he began to call loudly 
through the house, but no man answered 
to his cry; a solemn silence reigned. 

At last there came forth with creeping 
pace an old, old man, whose beard was 
white as snow, who leaned on a staff and 
walked with feeble steps. His eyesight had 
failed him long ago. On his arm he bore a 
bunch of keys that were overgrown with 
rust. He was a very uncouth sight to be- 
hold, as he came forward with unsteady 
steps; for as he walked forward his face 
was turned backward. This was the ancient 
keeper of the castle, and the foster father of 
the dead Giant, and his name was Ignaro. 

His gray hairs were honored by the 
knight, who gently asked him where all 
the people were who were used to live in 
that stately house, but the solemn old man 
answered only that he could not tell. Again 
he asked where the captive knight was 
kept; and again he said he could not tell. 



/ 



THE FAERY QUEEN 



Then the Knight asked which way he 
might pass, but was given for reply only 
that he could not tell. 

Thereat the courteous Arthur was dis- 
pleased, and said, "Old sire, it seems you 
have not considered how unfit it is for gray 
hairs to mock or to be mocked. But if you 
are the old man you seem, I demand of you 
to answer me in more courteous way." His 
reply again was, he could not tell. This 
senseless speech, when the Prince had 
noted well, he guessed his nature by his 
face, and calmed his wrath, for he saw the 
old man was a dotard. Then stepping to 
him, he took the keys from his arm, and 
made himself free entrance. He opened 
each door, for there was no bar to stop him, 
nor any foe. 

Within the rooms, he found all richly ar- 
rayed with arras and gold, and abounding 
with stores of everything that the greatest 
princes could desire. But all the floor was 
covered with the blood of innocent babes. 
Arthur sought through every room, but 
could find nowhere that woeful captive. 

At last he came to an iron door that was 
locked fast, and found no key on that bunch 
to open it. But in the door was a little 
grating, through which he sent his voice, 
[uxL 



^-J 



6 





THE FAERY QUEEN 

and loudly called with all his power to 
know if any living man were there whom 
he might set free. Therewith a hollow, 
murmuring voice replied with piteous 
sounds, *'Oh, who is that who brings me the 
happy choice of death, that lie here living 
in baleful darkness? Now three moons 
have changed their hue since I looked upon 
the cheerful heavens. Oh, welcome you, 
who bring tidings of death." 

When Arthur heard this, his heart was 
thrilled sore with pity, and horror ran 
through every joint for compassion of that 
gentle knight. Then shaking off this 
thought, he rent that iron gate with furious 
force, but when he entered in he could find 
no floor, but only a steep descent, dark and 
breathing forth a foul smell. But neither 
foul darkness nor noxious smell could 
hold him from his purpose, but with 
courage bold he found the means to lift up 
that prisoner, whose feeble thighs, unable 
to uphold his body, scarcely could bear him 
to the light. Indeed, he was a pitiful spec- 
tacle of death and ghastliness. 

His sad, dull eyes were sunk in hollow 
pits, and could not endure to look upon the 
sun. His cheeks were bare and thin, his 
sides were so empty that a heart of stone 

[112] 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

would have pitied him. His raw-boned 
arms, whose mighty muscles were wont to 
rive steel plates and hew helmets, were 
wasted away. All his vital forces were de- 
cayed, and his flesh was shrunk up like 
withered flowers. 

And when his Lady saw him, she ran to 
him with joy. To see him made her glad, 
and yet she was sad to see his face so pale 
and wan, who formerly was clad in flowers 
of freshest youth. When she had wasted a 
well of tears, she said, "Ah, dearest lord, 
what evil star frowned on you, that you are 
thus robbed of yourself? But welcome 
now, my lord, in weal or woe, whose pres- 
ence I have lacked too long. Fortune for 
these wrongs will pay penance of good. 
Good grows out of evil." 

"Fair Lady," then said the victorious 
Arthur, "to do again the things that 
grieved breeds no delight. The good that 
grows from evils past is to be wise, and to 
beware of the like again. This day's ex- 
ample has written this dear lesson deep in 
my heart with an iron pen, that happiness 
does not abide with mortals. Henceforth, 
Sir Knight, regain your strength, and 
master your misfortunes with patient 
might. Lo, where your foes lie stretched 

[113] 





THE FAERY QUEEN 

before you. Lo, that wicked woman, who 
was the root of all your wretchedness, is 
now in your power, to let her live or die." 

"To put her to death," said Una, ^*were 
wrong, and it were shame to take revenge 
upon so weak an enemy. But take from 
her her scarlet robes and let her go." 

So, as she said, they took from that witch 
her royal robes and purple pall, and rich 
ornaments. And then she was seen to be 
a loathsome, wrinkled hag, ill-favored, 
old; a more ugly shape no living creature 
ever saw. 

And when the knights beheld her, they 
were amazed, and wondered at her foul de- 
formity. "Such then," said Una, "as she 
seems here, such is the face of falsehood. 
Such is foul Duessa when her borrowed 
light is taken away, and her real self 
known." Thus when they had shown her 
filthy features, they let her go at her own 
will, and wander into unknown ways. She 
fled fast to the wilderness, to hide her 
shame from living eyes, and lurked in 
rocks and caves. 

Then the knights and fair Una abode in 
that castle for a time, to rest themselves, 
and there they found great stores of rare 
dainties for their health. 



I 



I 



4 



CHAPTER X. 

ST. GEORGE AND UNA NOW COME TO HER 
NATIVE LAND. — THE GREAT DRAGON AT- 
TACKS THE KNIGHT. — ST. GEORGE IS 
TWICE OVERTHROWN, BUT IS HEALED BY 
A WELL AND A TREE. — ON THE THIRD 
DAY HE SLAYS THE DREADFUL DRAGON. 






HEN their strength was 
recovered somewhat, and 
the weak captive Redcross 
Knight had grown a little u 
stronger, they thought 
they must no longer dwell 
there at leisure, but go 
forward to other adven- 
tures. But before Prince Arthur left them 
he told them of his love for Gloriana, the 
Fairy Queen, and that for nine months he 
had been seeking her. These two knights, to 
bind their friendship and to establish true 
love, gave goodly gifts, and as firm pledges 
joined their right hands together. Prince 
Arthur gave the Redcross Knight a 
Diamond box in which were a few drops of 
wondrous liquid that could heal any wound. 
And in return the Redcross Knight gave 
Arthur a book, wherein his Saviour's testa- 
ment was written with brave gold letters. 
[117] 



^3^ 



THE FAERY QUEEN 



Thus they parted, Arthur going on his 
way to seek his love, and the other to fight 
with Una's foe. But Una, thinking of her 
Knight's shrunken sinews, would not bring 
him into a dreadful fight until he had re- 
covered his former health. 

And as they travelled, she brought him 
to an ancient house not far away, renowned 
throughout the world, where a wise matron 
dwelt whose only joy was to relieve the 
needs of wretched souls and aid the help- 
less poor. In this House of Holiness they 
dwelt awhile. And there in quiet and in 
reading the Redcross Knight gained 
strength and was comforted. 

And there an aged man told him many 
curious things about the people from whom 
he sprang, and that he was of the English 
race, and descended from Saxon kings. He 
said, **Seek the path that I show, which 
shall after send you to heaven. And among 
the saints you shall be a saint, and the 
friend and patron of your own nation. You 
shall be called Saint George; Saint George 
of merry England, shall be the sign of 
victory. 

"And since your cradle is unknown to 
you, I tell you well, you spring from Saxon 
kings, that have fought with mighty hand 
[ii8] 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

many bloody battles, and reared their royal 
throne in England. From thence a fairy 
took you while you slept and left her infant 
in your place. Then she brought you to 
Fairyland and hid you in a furrow. There 
a ploughman found you and brought you 
up in his home, until your courageous heart 
led you to the Fairy's court to seek fame." 

*'0 holy sir," said St. George, "how shall 
I return your many favors? You have read 
aright my name and nation and taught me 
the way to heaven." 

High time it now began to be for Una to 
think of her dear captive parents, and to 
repair their wasted kingdom. So they take 
leave of all in that house and ride away. 
And when they now approached near her 
native land, Una began to cheer with hearty 
words her Knight, and spoke in her modest 
manner, "Dear Knight, as dear as knight 
ever was, that have suffered these sorrows 
for my sake, may Heaven behold the toil 
you have taken for me. Now we are come 
unto my native soil, and to the place where 
all our perils are. Here haunts that fiend, 
and daily ravages. Therefore, be ever ready 
for your foeman. The spark of noble 
courage now awake, and strive to excel 
your excellent self. The battle you under- 
[119] 





THE FAERY QUEEN 

take shall evermore make you renowned 
above all knights on earth." 

Then pointing with her hand, she said, 
*Xo, yonder is the brazen tower in which 
my dear parents are imprisoned through 
dread of the huge fiend. I see them from 
far appearing on the. walls, the sight of 
whom greatly cheers my soul. And on the 
top of all I espy the watchmen, waiting to 
hear glad tidings. O my parents! may I 
bring to you ease of your misery." 

With that, they heard a roaring, hideous 
sound that filled all the wide air with terror, 
and seemed to shake the earth. Soon they 
espied the dreadful Dragon, where he lay 
stretched upon the sunny side of a great 
hill, himself like a great hill. So soon as 
he saw from afar the glittering armor, he 
roused himself and hastened to them. 

Then the Redcross bade his Lady to 
withdraw aside to a hill, from whence 
she might behold the battle and yet be 
safe from danger ; so she obeyed him. 

By this the dreadful Beast drew nigh 
to hand, half flying and half footing, and in 
his haste covering with his largeness much 
land and making a huge shadow, as a 
mountain overcasts a valley. Approaching 
near, he reared high his monstrous body, 

[120] 



L 



^^ 




l\ 



^ 



THE FAERY QUEEN 
horrible and vast. He was armed over all 
with brazen scales, so that nothing could 
pierce them. Nor might his body be 
harmed with the blow of a sword, nor push 
of a spear. His wings were like two sails 
in which the wind is gathered. The feathers 
on his pinions were like main-yards. And 
when he chose to beat the air with his 
wings the clouds fled before him for terror. 

His huge, long tail, wound up in a hun- 
dred folds, overspread his whole scaly back, 
and when he unfolded his tangled knots it 
swept all the land far behind him. At the 
point of the tail were fixed two stings, both 
deadly sharp, more so than the sharpest 
steel. But the sharpness of his cruel rend- 
ing claws far exceeded his stings. That 
was surely dead that was touched by his 
ravenous feet. 

But his most hideous head my tongue 
trembles to tell of, for his deep, devouring 
jaws gaped wide, through which could be 
seen a dark abyss. In either jaw three 
ranks of teeth were arranged; and to help 
kill his prey at once, a cloud of smothering 
smoke and sulphur steamed forth and filled 
all the air about. His blazing eyes were 
like two bright, shining shields, and they 
burned with wrath and sparkled living fire. 




^ 

N 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

So dreadfully did he pass toward the 
Knight, lifting aloft his speckled breast, 
and bounding over the bruised grass, as if 
for great joy, he welcomed this Knight. 
Soon he began to advance his haughty 
crest, and shake his scales, so that the Red- 
cross Knight almost quaked for dread. The 
Knight began fairly to couch his dreadful 
spear, and fiercely ran at him with might. 
The pointed steel would neither bite nor 
pierce his hard hide, but glanced off. Yet 
so moved was the wrathful beast with that 
powerful push, that he turned him lightly 
and as he passed by brushed with his long 
tail that horse and man to the ground. 

But horse and man lightly rose up again, 
and the Knight addressed him to a fresh en- 
counter, but the idle stroke recoiled back 
in vain. Exceeding rage inflamed the 
furious beast to be avenged, for never had 
he felt such wondrous force from the hand 
of any living man. Then with his waving 
wings displayed wide, he lifted himself up 
from the ground, and with his broad sails 
soared round above him. At last he stooped 
low and snatched up the man and horse to 
carry them quite away. 

Long he bore them above the plain, as 
far as a bow may send an arrow, till strug- 

[122] 




THE FAERY QUEEN 
gling strong they at last forced him to let 
them down again. When the Knight was 
loose of his grip, he again tried to pierce 
with his spear through his brass-plated 
body. Three men's strength he put into 
the stroke. The stiff beam glanced from 
his scaly neck and glided close under his 
left wing, where it made a wide wound, so 
that the monster cried loudly from the hurt. 
He roared like the raging seas. The steel 
head stuck fast in his flesh until with his 
cruel claws he snatched the wood and broke 
it in two. 

His hideous tail he then hurled about, 
and with it enwrapped the thighs of the 
foaming steed, that striving to unloose him- 
self was forced to throw his rider. The 
Knight quickly rose from the earth, and 
fiercely took his sharp blade in hand, with 
which he struck so furiously that it seemed 
nothing could withstand the blow. But his 
hardened crest was so well armed that the 
sword could not make a dint. Yet the blow 
was so severe that the Dragon henceforth 
shunned to get the like again. 

The Knight was vexed to see his stroke 

without effect, and smote again with more 

outrageous might, but back again the 

sparkling steel recoiled and left no mark. 

[123] 





THE FAERY QUEEN 

The beast, now smarting with his hurt, 
thought with his wings to get above the 
ground, but his wounded wing would not 
serve him for flight. Then full of grief he 
brayed aloud, and from the oven of his 
mouth he sent forth fire, that scorched the 
Knight's beard and burned his body 
through his armor, so that he wished to un- 
lace his helmet. 

Faint, weary, burned with heat, toil, 
wounds, he was tormented more than man 
ever was. He thought death better. The 
Dpagon, when he saw his foe so dismayed, 
wished himself to breathe, and turning 
about struck him so strongly that he was 
felled to the ground. It happened fairly, 
that behind his back where he stood there 
was from ancient times a springing well, 
full of healing powers and good for medi- 
cine. In days before that Dragon got that 
happy land it was called the well of life. 
For it could cure those that were infected 
with sickness, and renew the aged. Into the 
same the Knight fell backward. 

Now the sun began to set, when that 
monster, having cast his weary foe into that 
well, began to advance his broad, dis- 
colored breast and to clap his wings as a 
victor. Which when his sad Lady saw from 
[124] 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

afar, her soul was filled with great woe and 
sorrow, as thinking that sad war was at an 
end. And she began to pray to God to turn 
that end she feared away. With folded hands 
and kneefe low bent all night she watched, 
nor would lay down her weary limbs. 

When the next morning did appear, the 
gentle virgin Una rose from her place and 
looked about, if she might spy her loved 
Knight. 

At last she saw where he started bravely 
up out of the well, wherein he had lain 
drenched; and now he rose as if new-bom, 
once more to try the battle. 

Whom when the monster so fresh did 
spy he wondered at the sight, and doubted 
whether it were his late enemy or another 
man. The Redcross now to prove his re- 
newed power, brandished on high his 
bright blade, and smote upon the monster's 
scalp so sore that he made a yawning 
wound to the bone; and the deadly blow 
dulled his senses. Whether the steel was 
hardened in that water, or the Knight had 
fresh strength, I know not, for till that time 
no man could harm that beast. 

The cruel wound enraged him so, that he 
yelled aloud for exceeding pain. Then he 
began to toss aloft his tail, and beat the air. 
[125] 




THE FAERY QUEEN 



Nothing could stand before his strokes, for 
he overthrew high trees and broke rocks in 
pieces. Then, advancing with his tail high 
above his head, he intended to sting him 
with its sharp points. The mortal sting its 
angry needle shot quite through his shield, 
and seized his shoulder, where it stuck fast. 

The Knight, striving to rise and loose the 
sting, found this vain. Then he drew his 
raging blade and struck so strongly that he 
cut five joints off the huge tail, and left but 
the stump. Then the beast filled the sky 
with his roars and with foul smoke and 
flashing fire. Then filled with wrath he 
gathered himself out of the mire and 
fiercely fell upon the sun-bright shield and 
gripped it fast. 

Much was this man encumbered by this 
hold, and was in fear to lose his weapon, nor 
did he know how to unloose its folds. Three 
times he tried to draw it from its foot, but 
all in vain. Then when he saw he could not 
avail, he took his trusty sword wherewith 
he fiercely assailed his foe, and stoutly laid 
about him double blows so that fire flew 
from the iron. Therewith, he at last forced 
him to unloose one of his feet to use for 
his defence. 

The other foot, fixed fast on the shield, 

[126] 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

no strength nor stroke could force him to 
unloose. He smote on that with all his 
might, until upon a joint the lucky steel did 
light, and made such way that hewed it 
quite in twain. For grief thereof the Dragon 
threw forth huge flames from his furnace, 
that dimmed heaven's light, covering it 
with dusky smoke and blue brimstone. The 
heat thereof so annoyed the Knight that it 
forced him to retire a little backward for 
his defence, to save his body from the 
scorching flames. It chanced as he re- 
coiled backward, that his foot slipped in 
the mire and down he fell. 

There grew a tree fairly beside him, laden 
with fruit and rosy apples, whereof great 
healing powers were declared. For happy 
life came to all who fed thereon, and even 
life everlasting. The great God had planted 
it in that blessed place with his Almighty 
hand, and called it the tree of life. In all 
the world the like of it was not to be found, 
save in that soil, where all good things 
grew, and it freely sprung out of the fruit- 
ful ground as uncorrupted nature sowed 
them, until that dread Dragon overthrew 
all. Another like fair tree also grew there- 
by, whereof whoever ate soon knew both 
good and evil. 

[127] 





THE FAERY QUEEN 

From that first tree forth flowed as from 
a well a trickling stream of balm, which on 
the ground still fell and overflowed all the 
fertile plain. Life and health that gracious 
ointment gave, and it could heal all deadly 
wounds. Into that same this Knight fell, 
which saved him from death. For the ac- 
cursed Beast dared not approach there, for 
he hated all that preserved life. 

And now the drooping day began to fade 
and yield to the sad night, that began to 
cover the face of the earth with her sable 
mantle. When Una saw this second fall of 
her dear Knight, who, v/eary of the long 
fight and faint with loss of blood, did not 
move but lay as in a dream, smeared 
with the precious balm, whose virtue healed 
his wounds, she was stricken with sore 
fear and began to pray devoutly for 
his safety and to watch for the joyous 
day. 

The joyous day began early to appear 
with rosy cheeks, when freshly uprose the 
doughty Knight, all healed of his hurts and 
wide wounds and decked himself ready for 
battle. And when his foe, waiting beside 
him, saw him lift himself freshly up as if 
his late fight had done him no harm, he be- 
gan to be dismayed and to fear his fate. 
[128] 



THE FAERY QUEEN 

Nevertheless, he advanced near him with 
wonted rage. 

And in his first encounter, gaping wide, 
he thought at once to have quite swallowed 
him, and rushed upon him outrageously. 
But the Knight encountered him fiercely. 
With his bright weapon, taking advantage 
of his open jaw, he ran through his mouth 
with such might that he pierced his dark, 
hollow maw, and retiring backward, drew 
forth his life blood. 

So down he fell, and breathed forth his 
life, that vanished into smoke and swift 
clouds. So down he fell, so that the earth 
groaned under him, as if too feeble to bear 
so great a load. So down he fell, as a huge 
rocky cliff whose foundations have been 
washed away. So down he fell, and lay 
like a mountain. 

The Knight himself even trembled at his 
fall, so huge and horrible a mass it seemed. 
And his dear Lady that beheld it, dared 
not approach lest she had not seen aright. 
But at last when she saw that the direful 
fiend did not stir, she shook off vain fright 
and drew nearer and saw that joyous end. 
Then she praised God, and thanked her 
faithful Knight that had achieved so great 
a conquest. 

[129] 



^' 



L 



v« 




CHAPTER XI. 

THE PARENTS OF UNA GREET HER AND 
ST. GEORGE WITH LOVE AND JOY.-^ 
DUESSA AND ARCHIMAGO FAIL IN THEIR 
LAST EFFORT TO DIVIDE THE KNIGHT 
AND HIS LADY. — THE JOYFUL MARRIAGE 
OF UNA AND ST. GEORGE. 





CHAPTER XI 

jT was yet early morning 
when the watchman on the 
eastern wall saw the last 
deadly smoke ascend as a 
sign of the last breath of 
life of the Dragon. He 
thereby knew that the 
baleful Beast was dead, 
and he began to call loudly to his Lord and 
Lady, to tell how he had seen the Dragon's 
fatal fall. 

Then up rose with hasty joy the good 
Sire, the Lord of all that land, and looked 
forth to know if the tidings were true in- 
deed. Which when his eyes knew by 
trial, he bade to open the brazen gate, which 
long time had been shut, and at once pro- 
claimed joy and peace through all his state. 
For their foe now was dead, that had lately 
preyed upon them. 

Then began triumphant trumpets to 
[133] 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

sound on high, that sent to heaven the re- 
port of their new joy, and the happy vic- 
tory against him that had so long oppressed 
them and imprisoned them in a besieged 
fort. Then all the people, as in a solemn 
feast, assembled with one voice^ rejoic- 
ing at the fall of the great beast, from 
whose eternal bondage they were now 
free. 

Forth came that ancient Lord and aged 
Queen, arrayed in antique robes down to 
the ground. A noble crew waited about 
them of sage and sober peers, gravely , 
dressed. There marched before them a 
goodly band of tall young men, all able to' 
carry arms, but they now bore in their i 
hands laurel branches, glad signs of vie-! 
tory and peace in all their land. 

And they came to that doughty Conquer- 
or prostrating themselves low before him, 
proclaiming him their Lord and Patron and 
throwing their laurel boughs at his feet. 
Soon after them, dancing in a row, came the 
comely virgins, decked with garlands, as 
fresh as flowers growing in green mead- 
ows; and in their hands they held on high 
sweet timbrels. 

And before them the fry of young chil- 
dren played their wanton sports and child- 
[134] 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

ish mirth, and sung to the maidens' sound- 
ing timbrels' joyous lay in well-tuned notes, 
making all the way delightful music, until 
they came where the fair virgin, Una, 
stood. And then they wrestled, some ran, 
some bathed in the crystal flood. So she 
beheld those maidens' merriment with 
cheerful face. When they came to her, they 
bent themselves humbly to the ground, 
adoring her by an honorable name. Then 
they set a green garland on her head, and 
crowned her half in earnest and half in 
sport, so that she seemed what she was, a 
goodly maiden Queen. 

And after all, many ran to see the face 
of that victorious man, whom all wondered 
at as if he were sent from heaven, and they 
gazed upon him with gaping mouths. But 
when they came where that dead Dragon 
lay, stretched on the ground in monstrous 
size, the sight dismayed them with fear, 
nor did they dare approach near enough to 
touch him. Some feared and some fled; 
some pretended to be afraid. One that 
would seem wiser than the rest warned 
them not to touch the beast for fear some 
lingering life might remain within him, or 
in some hidden nest might lurk little drag- 
ons. Another said that sparkling fire yet 
[135] 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

remained in his eyes. Another said he saw 
him move his eyes. 

One mother, when her foolhardy child 
came too near and played with his claws, 
was half dead with fear, and said to her 
friends, " How can I tell, but that his claws 
may yet scratch my son, or tear his tender 
hands?" So they talked and did; while 
some who were more bold stood near to 
measure him, to see how many acres of 
land his body covered. 

Thus all the folks flocked round about 
him. After a while the aged King arrived 
with all his followers, where the Redcross 
Knight stood, and the King greeted him 
with love, and gave him princely gifts of 
gold and ivory, and gave him a thousand 
thanks for his pains. Then when he beheld 
his dear daughter, he embraced her dearly 
and kissed her many times. 

And after that he brought them to his 
palace with clarions and trumpets. And 
all the way the joyous people sang, and 
strewed the paved streets with their gar- 
ments. Then, mounting from the street to 
the palace, they found within all such pro- 
visions as became that royal court. And all 
the floor underneath their feet was spread 
with costly scarlet, on which they sat down. 
[136] 



/: 



f* 



Q 




V 



THE FAERY QUEEN 

Why need I tell of this feast, in which 
there was nothing riotous? Why need 
I tell of the dainty dishes, or the courtly 
train? My pages cannot contain all that 
was true of those royal princes' state. 
Then when they had quenched their appe- 
tites with meats and drinks of every kind, 
the ancient King asked of the Knight an ac- 
count of his sad perils and strange adven- 
tures which had befallen him in his travels. 
And he with grave utterance told all his 
experience from point to point. 

Great pleasure, mixed with pity, did that 
King and Queen show, while they heard his 
adventures. Often they lamented his luck- 
less state; often they blamed unkind for- 
tune, that heaped on him so many sorrows. 
And all the while salt tears bedewed his 
hearers' cheeks. 

Then said that royal father, ** Dear son, 
great have been the perils which you have 
borne from first to last in your enterprise, 
which I know not whether to praise or pity 
more. For I think, no living man was ever 
so distressed in a sea of dangers. But since 
now you have arrived at shore, let us plan 
means for ease and rest." 

" Ah, dearest lord," said then the doughty 
Knight, ''I may not yet think of ease or 

[137] . 





THE FAERY QUEEN 

rest, for by my oath I am bound at once 
after this adventure to return back to the 
Fairy Queen and to serve her for six years 
in war against the proud heathen king, her 
foe. Therefore I cannot rest until I have 
fulfilled my vow." 

** Unhappy is that hard necessity," said 
he. "This troubles my peace. Nor can I 
justly speak against the same. But since 
you cannot unloose that bond, for vows 
should not be vain, as soon as those six 
years are over, you shall return here once 
more to accomplish the marriage between 
you and my daughter. Which, for my part, 
I am anxious to fulfill, as I proclaimed 
throughout the world that whoever killed 
that most deformed monster should have 
my only daughter for his wife and be the 
heir to my kingdom. Therefore since you 
have done this, I yield to you both daughter 
and kingdom." 

Then he called forth his fair daughter, 
the fairest Una, who proceeded forth with 
sad, sober face, as bright as the morning 
star appearing out of the east. As fair and 
fresh as flowers in May was she, for she 
had laid her black robe aside, with which 
she had hidden her heavenly beauty, while 
she was on her weary journey. And on her 
[138] 




THE FAERY QUEEN 
now she wore a lily-white garment, without 
spot, that seemed to be woven of silk and 
silver. 

The blazing brightness of her beauty, and 
the glorious light of her sunshiny face were 
more than I can describe. Her own dear 
Knight, though he had been used to see 
her daily, wondered much at the heavenly 
sight. He had often seen her fair, but never 
BO fairly dressed. Thus when she came 
into the King's presence, she made an hum- 
ble bow to her sire, which became her well 
and added grace to her. And then she was 
about to speak. 

' But before she had spoken, a messenger 
with letters came running in with flying 
speed. All in the open hall stood amazed 
at the suddenness of his appearance, and 
wondered at his breathless haste. But he 
would stay for nothing till he had come to 
the King. There falling flat with great 
humility, he kissed the ground, and then 
taking what he had in his hands, he began 
to read. 

" To thee, most mighty king of fair Eden, 
the woeful daughter and forsaken heir of 
the great Emperor of all the West sends her 
greetings in these sad lines. She bids you 
be advised, before you link your daughter 
[139I 




■^ 



THE FAERY QUEEN 

in holy marriage to your new guest; for 
he already has promised his hand to an- 
other love. To me, sad maid, he was prom- 
ised, and he gave sacred pledges long ago. 
He is a false knight, infamous and for- 
sworn. Therefore since he is mine, with- 
hold your hand from making this marriage. 
Nor think to tread down my rights with 
your strength, for truth is strong and shall 
find friends. So she bids you farewell, who 
is neither your friend nor your foe, Fi- 
dessa." 

When he had read these bitter, biting 
words, the King was astonished at the 
strange tidings, and sat still a long time 
musing, and spoke no word. At last he 
broke his silence and fixed his eye doubt- 
fully upon his guest. " Redoubted Knight, 
who for my sake hast ventured life and hon- 
or, let nothing be hid from me that ought 
to be told. What mean these threats? If 
you find yourself guilty, or bound to an- 
other Dame, do not cover it with falsehood 
but disclose the truth.'* 

To whom the Redcross Knight answered 
thus, " My lord, my king, be not dismayed 
until you know what woman this is, and 
why she upbraids me with breach of love. 
It was while I lately travelled hither, that 
[140] 







THE FAERY QUEEN 

I strayed out of my way through strange 
perils that would take all this day to tell. 
There I found, or rather was found by this 
false woman called Fidessa, who is, in- 
deed, the most false Duessa. She was 
richly dressed to deceive weaker sight, and 
by her wicked art she brought me to her 
wicked will, and betrayed me to my foe." 

Then stepped forth the goodly royal 
Maid, Una, and prostrating herself low on 
the ground, she spoke with sober face, " O, 
pardon me, my sovereign lord, while I show 
the secret treasons which I know to have 
been wrought by that false sorceress. She, 
only she, it was who threw this gentle 
Knight into such great distress. And now 
it seems that she has bribed this false mes- 
senger to bring these false letters to work 
new woe, by breaking the bond between us. 
She has used this false footman, clothed 
with simplicity, whom, if you wish to dis- 
cover plainly, I think you will find to be 
Archimago, the falsest man alive." 

The king was secretly moved at her 
speech, and with sudden indignation bade 
them seize that messenger. At once the 
guards seized that false traitor and truly 
found him to be Archimago ; and then they 
bound him, and they laid him low in a deep 
[141] 



U 




THE FAERY QUEEN 

dungeon, fastened hand and foot with iron 
chains. 

And when the King's anger was pacified, 
he began to renew the thought of the mar- 
riage. And he at once, without more de- 
lay, tied his dear daughter with sacred rites 
and vows to the Knight forever. He knitted 
the knot with his own two hands, that none 
but death could ever divide them. With 
his own hands he kindled the sacramental 
fires and sprinkled the holy water. 

Then they began to sprinkle all the posts 
with wine, and made great feasts. They 
perfumed all with frankincense, and pre- 
cious odors brought from far. All the 
while sweet music played with curious skill 
warbling notes. During which there was 
a heavenly noise heard sounding pleasantly 
through the place as if it had been an an- 
gel's voice. Yet no one knew whence that 
heavenly sound came. 

Great joy was made that day among old 
and young, and a solemn feast was pro- 
claimed through the land. Thrice happy man 
the Knight thought himself, being pos- 
sessed of the hand and heart of his Lady. 
And always when his eyes beheld her his 
heart seemed to melt with pleasure. He 
there long enjoyed her presence and sweet 
[142] 



THE FAERY QUEEN 
company. No wicked envy, nor wild jeal- 
ousy was able to annoy him. 

Yet while swimming in the sea of bliss, 
he never forgot what he had sworn — that 
in case he should destroy that monstrous 
beast, he would return to his Fairy Queen. 
Which he shortly did, leaving Una for the 
time in the care of her loving and happy 
parents. 



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